Is "home" where my family is? Is it with the people who raised me, the people who love me unconditionally? My childhood home is where I first met my younger siblings, where I first stayed home alone, and where my dog lovingly comes to greet me when I open the door. I have friends here, the friends who I went through the most hormonal, exhausting parts of life with. I saw them every day for four-plus years. I went to my first party with them. I broke up with my first boyfriend with them. I got into college with them. It's safe to say my life would have been dramatically different without them.
Or is "home" where I am building my future? Is it where I'm pouring my heart and soul into classes, where I am so passionately committed to doing what I love? I have friends there as well. I live with these friends. They have become the parents and siblings I left behind. We do mundane tasks together, we grocery shop, we meet at the library, we clean our rooms. Yet we also share some of the most exciting parts of college. We get into trouble, we make horrible decisions, and we laugh and cry about it in the morning. I don't each lunch with them every day. I don't see them every day at school, and I don't need to. I have learned to be friends with myself as well. This "home" is where I have become comfortable enough with myself that I can eat alone, grab a Starbucks alone, even spend an entire day alone, something that never would have crossed my mind in high school. This "home" is a place that offers new challenges, where I leave my comfort zone and return to it several times a day. And I can't wait to go back.
