This week I’m visiting home— Florida, the place where I grew up. I haven’t lived here in eight years though, and have started to struggle calling it home. Why? Because my definition of home has begun to change.
I see home as something less rooted in a place where memories happened or a place where family or friends helped you develop. Home happens where you are. It’s a place where you evolve. And perhaps it isn’t just a place either.
Maybe’s it’s a goal, a close friend or family member or a spot on a map smaller than a city. It changes with you so long as you’re looking for a new place to find a new part of yourself. Like I said, home happens where you are, and for me, that hasn’t been Florida in a long time.