No Place like Home

I’ve been reflecting alot about the move my family made when I was 11 from the city to the suburbs of Boston. It’s something that has really affected me, even to this day, it changed my life in not so positive ways. I still vividly remember the fear I felt as a pre-teen to move from my diverse community to an all white town, where I never felt like i fit in. Since that move I’ve always been searching for a place to belong, and to call home. I look back and remember:

And it was on that night that reality became a mere figment of my imagination. What was real in an instant became but a thing of the past. The cool grass below me tickled my bare arms and legs. I’d been there for hours, watching a circus in the sky. Closing one eye I saw an elephant. Closing the other a flamingo. If only this could exist for always. The circus paraded off and made room for a colorful show. The pinks, the oranges, the purples. All the colors melting into each other liked skilled dancers, like a beautiful disaster.

Closing my eyes, my thoughts focused to the sound of the trees bustling in the wind. My nose met hints of freshly baked brick oven pizza. The wind’s breath sends a cold chill up my spine, reminding me of the darkness that was to follow. Reminding me that I couldn’t stay within the moment forever.

Slowing stretching as I get up from the grass, my mind is heavy. Walking mindlessly to the place I’d called home for 12 years, I knew nothing was ever going to be the same again. Clutching my arms I longed for eternal warmth and security, the same I’d found in my small neighborhood.

My bedroom which was my haven, my escape from the outside world, now was just another room, in just another house. The bags full of clothes and the boxes full of toys and books didn’t comfort me. The room no longer housed joy and laugher. All the life had been sucked out. No more stuffed animals on the bed or secretly crayoned walls. No longer could I find peace in my special corner and pretend my name was Barbie and I had a boyfriend named Ken. My goose-bumped arms couldn’t handle the sadness and sense of loss. Emptiness envelops me, and this house is no longer my home. Glancing in the boxes at my feet I find pictures of me in school musicals, jump rope contests, and track competitions. No more memories, no more happiness. No place could compare to this home I’d lived with my family for years. There is no place like home.

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8 Responses to “No Place like Home”

YUMMommy says:

Can I just say how beautifully written this post is?!! Seriously, if you ever decided to write a book, I’m buying it. There is no place like home. Sadly, as a child my home never really felt like home. I didn’t have that same attachment. I found myself wanting to escape it more than anything.

Hopefully, though you will find a place that makes you and lil mama feel at home because that is important!

admin says:

Thanks much Kerry

Maria Amelia says:

The way we feel about “home” as a child does not compare to our feelings as adults. Now I enter my old room and it’s still mine, but different. But I love it still. And sometimes I look in my old mirror, expecting to see the old me, but she is gone. But I still love my room.

admin says:

So so true Maria!

Lourdes Colon says:

This is beautiful. I read this and I felt like I was on the grass with you looking at the clouds and in your room looking at your toys. I actually felt what you wrote. Amazing.

admin says:

Thanks so much Lourdes, those feelings I felt still live on today, and I really wanted my readers to experience them with me 🙂

WOW! Very well written post that brought me back to when I was only 13 years old! Thanks I really needed a good read like this one!!

Candace says:

Beautiful!! I could feel the grass and see all the colors even smell the pizza. I totally understand that feeling of not quite comfortable but keep working a keep pushing you’re a beautiful soul only good can come to you!

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