This weekend I took a trip to New Jersey for my first American Thanksgiving in 8 years! This trip had me thinking about the concept of home. I've had a few homes in my life, 5 by the time I was 14, but out of all the places that I've lived in no other place has held me as much as this place does. No matter how long I've been away, I am welcomed back by the comfort that it brings. I feel the comfort every time I crawl back into my old bed. Every time I see the little niknaks I've collected during my childhood. Every time my dad cooks me my favorite meal. This place made me.
*The star was a Christmas gift my bff gave me in high school. The cow was a gift my mother gave me when I graduated middle school*
My family and I have created our own home that holds us now. I am comforted by every hug and kiss I am given, especially when I need them the most. It holds me when I know that my kids feel the same about this place as I do about that place. We are secure, happy, and comforted all because we are here.