Just about everyone is familiar with the phrase, “Home is where the heart is.” It means that no matter where you are, your home is with the people you love and care about. For most, your loved ones reside in the physical place that you call home. Unfortunately for me, this has not always been the case.
The summer before my freshman year of high school, my family and I were suddenly evicted from our apartment. It was earth-shattering. In a single morning, the place where I’d spent five years — the most time I’d lived in any one place — was taken away. Before I had a chance to dive into the next phase of my life, my world was shifted completely.
I never felt like an ordinary teenager, but to be fair, I was never expecting an ordinary high school experience. Unlike most 16-year-olds, I wasn’t excited to get my license because it didn’t feel necessary. We didn’t have a car, so how would I practice driving? The open road did not represent independence for me. I allowed that milestone to float right by me, while my friends and classmates rushed to claim their tickets to freedom.
I carried the knowledge of my situation around with me like a secret, something I’d do anything to keep people from finding out. By far, the biggest hurdle in my experience was the agonizing feeling that I would never be understood, that no one could comprehend what I was going through. But it was more than a feeling — it was a fact. No one knew what it was like to live in a hotel for months and years on end.
For a long time, I was constantly contemplating my circumstances. As someone who believes everything happens for a reason, I couldn’t rationalize why this happened to me and my family. The biggest takeaway would have to be the importance of appreciation, especially for the little things. It wasn’t until I didn’t have a home that I realized how many of the smallest luxuries it came with that I’d spend years yearning for.
I’m not one to downplay my own experiences in favor of arguing that others may have it worse, but still, this helped me get through many tough days. I am blessed to be alive, healthy and constantly surrounded by my loved ones.
I’ve learned that home isn’t always sweet. Home has some of the biggest fights and blowups I’ve ever experienced. Home has meltdowns, walkouts and screaming matches. Sometimes homes fall apart. But after everything I’ve been through, I’ve realized that home truly is where your heart is.
Despite spending days cooped up in a hotel room together, my family and I have watched movies and cracked endless jokes like our problems didn’t exist. Amid intense chaos, we laughed and hugged each other. Without a doubt, they are my home.
I remember once telling someone very close to me about my situation, and what they said in response has always stuck with me.
“You said you didn’t have a home to take me to. But you said your family is your home, so that’s where you take me, to meet your family. The place doesn’t make a home; the people inside of it do.”
As the difficulty of my situation dwindles down, I realize that it was a constant struggle to see that I wouldn’t be weathering this storm forever, and I certainly wouldn’t be weathering it alone. By my side through it all has been my best friend, Makira.
And as much as I’ve pitied myself for circumstances beyond my control, regarding myself as someone less fortunate, she never has. She’s the epitome of a friend who is there for you on your best and worst days. She is my home.
When it came time to apply to college, I remember thinking that I was so ready to get away from everything I’d been through in high school. I felt equipped to prove that I was more than someone who knew what it was like to struggle, like I was going to make something of myself.
Coming to Bradley has made me realize that you don’t just have one home. We find homes in buildings, people and institutions. Home is wherever there’s a sense of comfort, belonging and sometimes even disarray.
I’m happy to say that pretty soon I’m going to have the warmth of a physical home again to match that of the people living inside it. As much as I can’t wait for it, I now know that I have a home here at Bradley, too.
