What Does Home Mean to Me

To many people, home is just a building with four walls and a roof, but to me, it means something deeper. It is my hideout, the one place where I can just be myself. When I walk through the front door, the stress of the outside world seems to disappear. Home is also built out of the chaotic, happy memories I share with my family. My favourite part of being home is when my younger cousins come over. Even though they are all toddlers and can be a lot, the house feels so much more alive when we’re playing. One of our favourite things to do is play "horsey" where I give my little cousin a piggyback ride around the living room while the others chase after us. Hearing her laugh while she holds on is one of those moments that makes my house feel like a real home. These small moments create a sense of self that can't be found anywhere else. It’s not just about the furniture or the decorations, it's about the feeling of being completely safe and surrounded by people who love me. When I was younger and lived in a different house I got the news I was moving. I got so hurt hearing that the place I felt safe in was being sold to someone else, all of those memories wasted away. Now I realize those memories don’t leave, they will stay with me forever. These are the memories that build my home.