“The ache for home is in all of us…the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” -Maya Angelou

So often, we find that our own definition of home belongs within a person or a place. The comfortable feeling of being “at home” is something almost everyone strives to find. I used to believe that the definition of home lied within a place or even a person that gave me a feeling in which I felt comfortable and safe. I know that after moving out of my home that I lived in, I felt very lost. I was worried that I would not find a feeling of “home” again. We all have our own definition of feeling “at home,” but in order to find it, sometimes we have to be lost.

When you think of feeling at home, where does your mind wander? Does it wander to the home you grew up in as a child? Does it wander to think about that special someone you cherish and love so dearly? Does it remind you of a place you enjoy visiting? Do you think of your current residence, enjoying a day on the couch with your favorite cup full of coffee, watching your favorite show or movie with your family? Do you think of home as a place? A person? A hobby? Or a feeling?

Something I learned after I had to move out of my home, the only other place besides my childhood home that felt like home, is that the feeling of home is comprised of more than just a location. Sure, my flowers, my decorations, the aura I had created, and the location made my old  home feel very home-like. I felt comfortable there. I felt like I could be any version of myself there, and it allowed me the opportunity to begin growing into the person I wanted to be. I also lived with my best friend, who also made it feel even more like home.

I moved out almost three months ago and there are still days in which I fear I will never find another place to attach to in order to feel at home. I do have attachment difficulties, partially because I believe that most things in life are only temporary, besides the securement and love you build within yourself. I search for homes everyday online and I find myself comparing my old home to the new home. I had never taken the time to really process and grieve the loss of the life I had lived before. As I’ve written in previous blogs before, I buried the grief, frustration, pain, and loss all in this figurative backyard per say. I instead, chose a life of reckless behavior and excessive alcohol consumption instead of a life worth truly living.

I got attached to my home. I think losing not only my home, the home I felt the most comfortable in, but also losing my best friend, my life, my routine, my roots I’d planted there, and even my pets, I tried to fill that void by rushing into looking for a new home. It was almost as if I was trying to replace the emptiness I felt by rushing to buy a new house. I thought I could dig up my plants, move my old belongings to match the décor I once had, and I would be able to create a new place that I could call my own. I neglected to truly realize the feeling of home was not in the location only, but in the feeling.

A huge part of what made my home feel like home were the feelings of comfort and security. I felt safe there. I felt as if nothing in the world would be able to break through the walls and I could be able to be the most authentic, happy, quirky version of myself that I am. I could feel at peace. I felt as if I belonged there. I shared my home with someone I viewed to be my best friend who also grew to accept me for the authentic version of me.

I took an impromptu trip to southern Indiana last week and spent a lot of much needed time alone roaming around in nature at Brown County State Park. I spent a lot of time there as a kid. My dad would take us as a family there to spend a few days enjoying the park. I have a lot of good memories that I will cherish for a lifetime. I always only felt a level of comfort when I was near the ocean. I never thought being in nature, surrounded by the dirt, the flowers, the bees, the creeks, and the trees would give me such a level of comfort that it did.

I spent so much time alone throughout the day. I realized in that time alone, in a place I never expected to feel at peace in, that I found calmness and a true level of tranquility. I spent my day exploring new things, taking silly photos (alone without a tripod might I add), and soaking in all that the outside world had to offer. I even ended up lost at one point, and in that moment, I had never felt more comfortable. It was as if being away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, away from technology and phone service, and away from my own negative thoughts for even just minute, gave me time to truly process things that have happened in my life recently. I didn’t expect to find a feeling of home again for a long while, but in the most unpredictable moments, I found a sense of home in the places I least expected.

Sometimes the reason we struggle to find our own version of home is because we hold onto these ideas of what our “home” is supposed to be. Maybe we used to have a home in the past we are struggling to let go of. Maybe, we have an idea or a dream of what our ideal home would look like. Maybe, we just simply don’t know what home really does feel like. Either way, there are so many people who struggle to simply find a place of their own comfort in which they feel like they can either be or find their authentic version of themselves in.

Letting go of a place you once knew as home is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Each time I find myself thinking about my old life, my old home, my plants I loved to watch grow and the flowers I loved to see bloom, my kittens in which I grew so attached to, my once best friend who in which no longer wants to continue our friendship, I find myself tearful, fearful, and hurt at the loss of something I once held so near and dear to my soul. However, like I know the reason each chapter in a book ends to make room for a new one to read, I know the same is true about life. We outgrow the places we thought we could bloom forever. We must close some chapters (even the ones we once loved to read the most) in order to move forward in our own individual books.

In life, we learn so many valuable lessons. We learn how to stand up when we fall down. We learn how to be quiet in moments our mind wants to shout so loud. We learn patience in times we want things to come right now. We learn to let people go when they’re not the people meant to stay in our lives. We learn to trust people, after our trust has been broken. However, the most important thing we learn as individuals is to allow our lives to be guided by patience, faith and hope, and not by force, frustration, or pain.

Patience is something we have such a struggle to find sometimes. I still find it hard to be patient with things in life. To be truthful, I thought that after losing my home that I would replace my lost feeling by finding a new home right away. I thought my problems would be solved by jumping into something that I believed was so simple.  I neglected to understand that being patient, allowing the universe and my faith to guide me in the direction I belong, and remaining hopeful throughout the process were all the key factors to finding the answers to my problems.

At this moment, I am patient. I’m waiting, but not rushing. I am living, without forcing. I want the things meant for my life to come to me naturally. Yes, there are things in life in which we must work harder for. There are going to be goals we have to work towards. However, there are genuine milestones in life that we must wait patiently to reach. In order to find our home, we sometimes have to keep our mind and options open to the possibilities. Home is more than a location, home is simply a feeling. The feeling of comfort in which we find in our own version of home is one we cannot replace. I hope each and every one of you reading this blog find your own version of home at some point. I know I am still searching, but each day I come closer to the feeling of home. I hope you all have a blessed week. Thanks for reading.