Home is where the heart is.
There's no place like home.
You've heard it all before. And yet...
You've spent a lifetime staring out the window, wondering why the stars look more inviting than the streets of your hometown.
You've been called a dreamer. An idealist.
Then you left and everyone called you a wanderer. A gypsy. They said you were lost. They said you were trying to find a place to belong.
And you believed them.
I'm here to tell you that you are not lost.
Your feet were born to move. Your heart was born to travel. You were not made for stillness. Your journey does not end at a tangible destination.
When you set foot on familiar soil and everyone cries, "It's so nice to have you home," it's okay to say, "This is not my home."
Because for people like us, home is not a point on the map. Home is not a career and a family. Home is not a clear path or a defined idea of success.
For people like us, home is that tingling feeling we get in our toes when the plane lands somewhere new. Home is the excitement we feel when we run our hands through foreign sands. Home is the joy of knowing nothing and having everything to learn.
So next time someone asks you, "when are you coming home?" Simply smile, grab your suitcase, and say,
"I am home."