My home is never temporary, and yet, it is always changing. The structure is metaphorical, built from emotions instead of raw materials, insulated with my choice of attire, the load-bearing walls being the formation containing my thoughts. The shelter it is placed in, whether it be a house, a hotel, or a vehicle, has little impact on my home. For me, a home is something I have found within myself.
When I was younger, I was often described as being a compliant child. I had no extreme opinions and maintained a “go with the flow” attitude. I was asked these questions: How can I make decisions if I don’t have a preference? How can I stand up for myself if I am always choosing what has been presented to me? However, I now realize that my apathy can be viewed as a strength. My lack of preference, though concerning at first, showed my comfort with anything presented to me. My ability to navigate any obstacle made it hard for me to choose between two choices because I could solve both problems presented with ease.
My ability to adapt has helped me make every problem I have faced a comfortable one. A home is a place where one can be themselves, where one can live comfortably, unworried by the inevitable. As I’ve gone through life, I’ve used what I know and what I can do to solve the uncertain, and to conquer it. I’ve been able to overcome obstacles using the skills people once said were problems. I can choose options easily now because I believe in myself to make the right decision, and to face what comes next with the best of my abilities.
My adaptability makes any place I go my home. It is my home because I am there. It can be personalized to my interests, or lay barren without a touch of my soul. But I can make whatever I am given into something I can live with.
A home is built on the foundation of trust. One trusts they are safe within their home. One’s home is their safe haven. My home is based on the trust I have within myself. I trust myself to make the right decisions. I trust myself to know what to do when something goes wrong. Most of all, I trust myself even when I make a mistake. I quarrel with my thoughts, thinking back to what went wrong and what I can do better next time. But in the end, there is always a compromise. I must live with myself, my successes, and my mistakes. I can never escape them, and therefore, I embrace them, forgiving myself, and trying again.
I know my home. I know myself. It is always changing because there is never a permanent state of self. However, the foundation remains. The trust remains. And as I grow older, my home grows stronger.
