I’ll admit, I’ve always been attached to home.
Home to me can mean many things–the state I’m from, the house I live in, the place I sleep. Most of all, though, home is a feeling. Home is where I am relaxed and not out of place because I belong there. At home, I am intrinsic.
My love of home may seem as if it would lead to homesickness. I manage fairly well, though. I seek out home in unfamiliar places, and I feel less alone.
When I came to Ames, not much felt like home. The first thing that makes home for me is comfort, but my bed wasn’t mine. The next thing that makes home is music, but I couldn’t find a piano I liked. Next is being comfortable in the things I do, like doing work that I am good at. I was new to the program, and I didn’t know most of the things I needed to know.
What fixed it? Nature. I am always at home outside because I’m meant to be there. I’m not at home in the heat, but when it cools down in the evening and I can feel the breeze on my face and I can smell outside, I know that I am home.
It’s become easier in the time I’ve spent here. I woke up in the middle of the night the other night and had the sense that I was safe and warm and where I was meant to be–a sense I only get from–you guessed it–home. I’m at home in VRAC. My desk is mine and I know the space and I’m not an imposter. I’m supposed to be here.
I will be excited to leave at the end of the summer and get back to where I’m from. I can’t wait to see my family and pet my dog and eat barbecue and go to all of the places where everyone knows my name. Even so, I’ll miss it here. It’s been home.
