No Place Like Home

I Believe there is no place like home. A home is more than just a house and the place you keep your belongings. It is a range of feelings. Family, love, safety, security. At least this is what it means to me. It is the one place where I can truly be myself, where I can hide and get away, and not feel guilty. When you spend years of your life growing up in one place, it becomes a major part of who you are. Not only the character of the house itself, but the street its on, the city its in, and all the surroundings. I spent fifteen years of my life in a big tan house on Ledgewood Road. This place was all that I knew. My family was the first to ever live in it, which gave me a feeling that it was truly ours. This house was the only definition of home I had known.
When I was eighteen, I was told we were selling the house and moving to a nearby town. I was devastated. I didn't think I could live anywhere else. Tangibly, nothing would ever be good enough, because this was my home. We moved to a small condo, and it was a big adjustment. At first I hated it and thought I had lost all sense of the feeling of home. But after a while, it came back. I realized maybe all of those feelings, love, security, may not have been held within the walls of Ledgewood Road, but in the family inside of it.
I believe that family is what makes a home. This belief has only been further proven since I came halfway across the country to go to school in Chicago. I have a "house" here called 2 E. 8th Street, but it doesn't feel like much of a home. Creating a life and home for myself was much different than the one my parent's created for me. While I have a sense of family in the context of my roomates, it doesn't compare to the real thing. I think I appreciate my family more now that I am away from them. Every day I am in Chicago, I am longing to be at home, in my own house, with my family, and with my dog. These are the simple things that truly make me happy and comfortable. I believe there is no place like home.