Home is My One and Only!

My home is not simply a roof over my head that shelters me from natural dangers, or from living on the streets. It is a shared space with loved ones like my parents to eat, sleep, and relax. When I come home from an outdoor activity, I smell the aroma of popcorn chicken. My nose knows my mom cooked one of my favourite foods. As I eat, it fills my stomach with warm fuzzy vibes because it is made with love and care. The familiarity of furniture and personal items in my home provides comfort and nostalgia. My monkey blanket is a precious item that I have had since I was a newborn and I sleep with it almost every night. Hugging and sniffing it brings a safe feeling and brings back childhood memories. With it, I feel relaxed and comfortable after a stressful day at school, or an argument with friends. My home is where I belong, I don't get judged, and I can be true to myself. I was born with a mild to moderate high frequency hearing loss and I have been wearing hearing aids since I was 8 months old. Even with hearing aids, I look slightly different on the surface but I am still the same kid and the same as other kids. Given that my parents still love me the same, this allows me to be myself and I know I belong. My home is a safe environment where I can learn from my mistakes and to celebrate special moments. When I was younger, I didn’t understand my feelings so I often threw tantrums and I was a bit of a troublemaker. My parents did not punish me, instead they will listen, understand the problem, and educate me. Because of that, it was safe to make mistakes and learn from them as I grow up. My parents will also celebrate my success when I do well in school by ordering sushi takeout. While we are eating and watching a movie in the living room to acknowledge my accomplishment, this encourages me to do better. At home, it is a place to make memories whether it is happy, sad, funny or silly, like pulling pranks on my dad when I put salt in his coffee. He will only pretend to get mad and laugh. When my dad is focused on playing video games, I would occasionally sabotage him by tickling his ribcage. My dad will chase me around the house and we will playfully fight. This is our way to bond together and make silly memories that we can remember for a long time. The meaning of home is a safe and loving place where I can express different emotions freely. It protects me from danger, makes me feel welcome and be myself. It’s also where I feel warmth physically and mentally, and make unforgettable memories.