What Home Means To Me

Growing up, I thought home was just four walls that kept me safe, to eat, sleep, and rest, but as my life started to change. I realized that home is more than just a house, it's a place where you can be broken but loved. My home is my life's memories. It's a safe place just like a big soft hug, a hide out from the harshness of the world. It's where I can be vulnerable, for example when I am having a rough day at school and I enter my home relief runs over me. My thoughts slow down and my chest becomes lighter when I sit down with my siblings on the couch. We laugh together, and I smile. In those moments, I think about how grateful I am to have them. When the world is too heavy, my home is where I can relax, love, and feel at peace. My family supported me and made me feel better about myself and it's not just the home itself that makes me feel loved, it's the people in it. That moment showed me that home is my safe spot, my hiding place. In my home there are cheerful sounds of joy and peace. Whenever we go out, we make so many memories that are worth more than gold or anything in the world. No matter how broken I feel, my home is the place that gently puts me back together.