submitted by Isaine Blatry
There’s no place like home, I think I heard this sentence a thousand times maybe. I used to not believe in it. For me, home was wherever my bed was or where I would be spending most of my time during a certain period of my life. I am used to travelling quite a lot, here and there and never stayed in one place for a very long time, therefore my home was never really one specific place.
When I was 12, I moved from the house I grew up and spent most of my childhood in, to a new one. I was so mad at my parents, I had to change houses, schools, cities and friends. It was a nightmare for me and I came to hate the new house I lived in and the people around me. I lived there from 12 to 18 and blame my parents for it, a small village in the middle of nowhere. What can be worst for a teenager? No bus, no autonomy, I was relying on my parents for every move that I would make.
The only thing that actually made me happy was the friends I made in high school and spending my nights watching TV shows…
When I finally moved out to come live in London it was a deliverance for me, I told myself I will never ever live again in this small village which made me feel cut off from the rest of the world. Too much green everywhere, mountains that surrounded me and wouldn’t let me escape. It felt like my own personal prison that my parents had chosen for me.
The city was my wake up call, I enjoyed the freedom I obtained as if it was my reward for all the years I ‘endured’ back in France.
The first time I came back to this so call place called ‘home’ it was in winter for the Christmas holidays, it felt weird and certainly not like home. I felt like revisiting my past and it was not something I wanted to do. Of course, I was missing my parents and my friends and I wanted to see them, but not THERE! After I decided no to come back until summer, it was not feasible for me to go there again.
Now, after almost one year living in the Capital, working, studying and partying I was exhausted. All I wanted to do is go home and rest. But where was home?
It is always hard to change your mind when you are very stubborn and won’t see things in a different angle.
It has been less than one week that I’m back and feel good, I feel like growing up and see the positive sides of thing and became more thankful for what I have: a loving family and a welcome home. Yes, I can finally call this place home, this where I am at peace with myself and made peace with the countryside (thank god, it took me 20 years).