I’m not quite sure who I am anymore, or what I am. All my life I have been able to define myself, I was always someone, I was always something! Now, I’m not sure. I look for places to belong, but my search remains futile. Nowhere feels like home anymore, everywhere is some foreign place to which I must now assimilate. I’m not sure how to shake this feeling of displacement, I’m not sure how to satiate this hunger for a home, how to rid myself of this nostalgia for a home I can no longer place.
So what is home? I used to think it was a place, some place warm and comfortable where you are surrounded by friends and family, somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. For days, weeks, months on end I searched for this place. I searched high and low, I traveled to many places searching for a feeling I was beginning to forget and still, nothing. It was then that I realized I was looking for the wrong thing. Home isn’t a tangible place, it is a mental state, a mental state that I had not had for a long time.
This realization caused me to do some self-reflecting of which I am still in the process of. I realize now that I cannot truly be at home, or satisfy my lust for belonging and safety until I know who I am, and my purpose in life. I use to laugh at people who would attempt to get this deep on me. I only wish now that I knew the extent of the true turmoil and despair their soul was experiencing. From now on I am on my own journey, a journey of self-discovery and I am documenting this journey for all those who have felt and feel the way I do. So that we can work together, so that we can support, so that we all can one day find home.
Food for thought.
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