Wednesday, 21 September 2016

Moving house... Moving home.

Advanced warning that this post is very personal and I may or may not have cried while writing it.

I have lived in the same house all of my 21 years. Yes I have been to university and lived other places but they have never been home. All of my memories and happy moments are in that house. It is the place I feel safest. It has always been with me through many tears and hard times. Whenever I feel lost I go back to this house, my home.

But this week I moved.

I moved out of my safe little nook to a strange, new place. Well, not completely strange and definitely not new because it's a whole weird situation that I won't go into. I'll summarise with I haven't had great experiences with this 'new' house and on the whole it doesn't give me happy, safe vibes.

I feel shocked, I feel lost, I feel on edge and uneven. Maybe I wouldn't feel so dramatically about moving if I had moved before but I haven't and I have always just had one home. Maybe this new house will become my home or maybe not as I plan to move out within a few years. For now it is just a house, not a home.

So I'm adapting to this new space, to saying 'I'm going back home' and not meaning my home home. For now. I'm pretty positive that with this final year at university it will quickly become my home, my new safe nook, as anyone who knows me will tell you I am not looking forward to this final year. In fact, I just want to be at home. Be it the new house or old house.

And so as I add each of my little trinkets, my books, my make up, my favourite things I feel more and more safe, more and more at home. So let's wait and see if this house becomes a home.

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