Home, a place with perceptions sewn into its walls

Home. Home can be a strange word to many. Maybe a place to feel safe, a chamber of privacy and paranoia or just a simple house but to me my home is many more things. Home to me is a concept and not an object. I think of it as an idea or a place of feelings. My bedroom is a place where I can unleash emotions that people don’t see on the surface, private experiences that aren’t spoken of or feelings that are built up. A bedroom is a person’s privacy, cries, sorrow and guilt are taken there but you also have your joy in privacy. Smiles thinking of memories or a conversation with a loved one. Playdates and drawing sessions, midnight snacks and bundled up book readings. Those all happen in my bedroom. The kitchen is the place where I am brought together to talk. Family is the power point, random chats about school and about the state of the outside world. I socialize and after dinner I speak with my Mom about whatever drifts into my thoughts. A sight I saw, a leaf that was taken on a dance by the wind. Anything. The dining room is my work, drawn out projects and homework that is yet to complete. Emails, calls and questions occur in the dining room. Stress is endured and assignments meet their last sentence. It happens in a drawn out state of checking websites and texting questions. My basement is my paranoia, I don't go down there very often. The place itself isn’t alarming or threatening visually but when you think of a place in the sentimental aspect it can be frightening. My basement isn’t scary to the people that come to my house, it looks homey and warm to others but I find it in-appealing to go down there. I have built walls and a door in my mental home, I see the issues and try to correct them. I see the things I can never replace. A home is a concept. It is different from a house, that's why you ask “do you wanna come to my house?” and you don’t usually say ‘ Can you come to my home?’ because a home is a part of you with loved ones and memories that a stranger or a friend may not understand. Sadly some people don’t have a home, they have a house. People don’t feel safe in houses sometimes but that's because that's their house, not their home. The world won’t always be fair but with your home, a place with memories, thoughts and perceptions sewn into its walls. You may be able to feel a bit more secure in your mental and physical home.

Mara

5 Année

Oakville, Ontario

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