Home

With “Sleep on the Floor” by The Lumineers playing in my ears, tears pricked my eyes while I watched the plane I was on take off. I was returning home after a five day trip to Georgia to see one of my best friends.

Home.

That was a word I had been toying with since my trip earlier that month to Oregon, to see another one of my best friends. (Yes, I have more than one)

I scrolled through the photos I had taken, thinking about the definition of home. The travel bug had bitten me a few years ago, and the more I traveled, the more I came to realize that my definition of home was changing.

As most of us do, I have family and friends scattered throughout the United States. Colorado, Oregon, Florida, Missouri, Pennsylvania, Georgia – just to name a few. I also have friends who live in Europe and Australia and one who is currently bouncing back and forth between the US and Switzerland.

Maybe it’s because my 30th birthday is coming up. Maybe it’s because I’m two steps behind everyone my age. Maybe it’s because when the seasons change I seem to get restless. (Anyone else?) But for whatever reason, I’ve been feeling this need to leave as soon as I return from a trip.

My two trips this past month have shown me that for me, home isn’t where you keep your stuff. It’s wherever you’re with the ones who love and support you. The ones who make you laugh and hold you accountable. The ones who you can sit in silence with. The ones you find yourself missing just minutes after you say goodbye.

As I sat on that plane I realized my home and heart are scattered across this world. I know some people would be freaked out by the thought of that. But you know what? I’m ok with it.