What is a home?

I´ve always wondered what makes a home. I´ve been travelling a lot, and lived a bit here and there. For a while that made me happy, the feeling that Icould be content with only a book and a few belongings in any city in any hostel. I knew I had my family and friends at home. I also knew I had to find myself, whatever that means. I think I had to strip away all the “everyday” life to find out who I was. It was sometimes lonely to travel solo, but I always found people I would never have met if I´d stayed at home. I still feel like they gave me pieces of who I am now.

I finally feel like where I live now with my love is our home, it took a while. Most of my things are still packed in boxes in Norway, but maybe it´s not the things that makes a home? Maybe it´s the feeling I have inside that even if we move house again, I bring with me the security of knowing that I have a “us” aswell as a “me”.

It´s always been important for me to not get stuck, don´t know how to explain it. I often get caught up in my everyday life, and I get habbits that I don´t like. Like sitting in the sofa to much, or being antisocial. Then something shakes that up, like a visit from the in-laws. Then my habbits and hiding-places are no longer there, I can´t hide in the livingroom watching TV all night, which is in one way good, because I need to shake up my habbits and refresh, like on the computer, restart.

So even if I love having a home, I think it´s healthy to shake it up a bit without feeling that the stability is gone. Perhaps a home is not only 4 walls?

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