My Home

The meaning of home to me is not how big the house is, it's how happy the home is. Do you ever think that the people in your home aren't just there because they’re forced to? They’re there because they chose to love you, and enjoy your company and you can't forget so they can feel proud of you no matter what decisions you make, they'll always be there to help with anything and everything. My home means a lot to me because it's the one place where I can make mistakes and not be judged or lectured, when I was making a smoothie all by myself because I thought I was capable, but then of course I dropped it all over myself. My parents didn't scream or yell, they talked in a calm voice and they helped me clean it up, when they did that it made me feel like it's okay to make mistakes.It's also the one place I can go and feel love and accepted in less then a heartbeat. My siblings might be the most annoying creatures on planet earth but I'm related to them, but that's not the point, the point is no matter how mad I get when they use my stuff without permission or wont stop bothering me in general. They will always be my little crazies. Also our home is filled with all random objects and pictures but thats what makes it us. Its my home, its the place I belong to,it's where all the memories are made, with my family, my friends. All my family and friends have some pretty great memories like when my parents surprised me with all my friends and family for my 10th and 11th birthday. It was one of the most remembered memories of my life because I was genuinely so confused because I didn't believe anything going on around me. Anyway my home is filled with love, care, and lots of memories, no matter where I am, who I'm with, I'll always remember that I love my goofy family the way it is, and I wouldn't want it any other way. It's my family. It might be made of brick but it's also made of love.