#homeisafeeling

[colorsofindia-blog]

#houseandhome #housedecorationideas #housebeautiful #householdaffairs #housedecor #housedecorating #housedecorate #homefeel #homeandinterior #homedetail #homedecorinspo #homeisafeeling https://www.instagram.com/p/B1CFYfxnWmP/?igshid=1xjgj7fdqmse8

[cheeneemae0519]

Moms siomai

[therealtrojanhorse-blog]

Home is a feeling in me

I first questioned the concept of home when I was faced with leaving my family to go to law school four years ago. For me, home meant family. It wasn’t my first choice to leave. Unlike most other twenty-one year olds (or at least what society tells us most twenty-somethings want), I didn’t crave that adventure or independence automatically. I had planned to attend law school close to home, to be with my family. To watch my youngest sister grow up, always her bodyguard. To hug my parents every day. To watch Netflix with my middle sister. In February 2014 I received bittersweet news - I did it! I got into law school! But it was six hours away from home. I accepted conditionally, holding out for an acceptance from the law school close to home. My number one choice, my plan. But that wasn’t in the cards life dealt me when in June 2014 I received the rejection e-mail. I didn’t know how to feel. My heart sank. Here I was, faced with my dream of attending law school - a dream within reach at my second-choice school, but it would come at a price (and I’m not speaking of tuition). My comfort. My family. My routine. My security. My familiarity. My home. 

I worked that entire summer, which distracted me. I threw myself into planning - buying all the things I would need for my “new life” away from home. I chattered animatedly with friends, co-workers and friends when they brought up my impending relocation. I thought that I could “fake it ‘til I make it.” If I acted excited enough, surely I’d be excited. The ever-growing knot in my stomach would surely subside the longer I refused to acknowledge it. 

My family decided to make a mini road trip out of relocating me. It had been decided that I would stay with relatives in my new city, to “get to know the area” and feel better about being on my own. Sandwiched in my aunt’s van with my cousins, dad, aunt, Grandma and what seemed like my entire life in bags and bins, I swallowed hard and held my breath for what seemed like the entire car ride. I kept looking at them, taking in their faces and feeling like I was already so far away from them all. But at the same time, it didn’t sink in just yet. I still had everyone around me, so I could distract myself. Even when I said goodbye to my mom, it didn’t hit me. My voice had trembled, but I didn’t break. 

The next day everyone was leaving. My dad left first with a couple other relatives. Before leaving, Dad pulled me aside in another room and said “let it out here if you have to. I don’t want you to cry out there.” I burst into tears and held on to him like my life depended on it. I whispered “Daddy, I don’t know if I can do this.” My dad is not a softie. He insisted that I stop crying, that I could and would do this, that I was following my dream. That everyone would be waiting for me at home. That they loved and supported me. I knew he meant the words, but I couldn’t make myself feel them. I couldn’t make myself feel okay. As I watched the car pull away with my dad inside it, I thought the ground would cave from under me. I was shaking and tearing up, but I still had Grandma, my aunt and cousins left. When they left, the tears I’d been holding in began to flow. I needed air. I needed to breathe. I decided to go for a walk. Just walk. I told my relatives I was going for a walk to figure out where the bus stop was, and ran out the door, practically gasping for air. As I walked, I cried so hard I thought my tears would never stop. I called my mom in a panic.

“Mommy, I’ve made a big mistake. They need to turn the car around. I can’t do this. I’ve made a big mistake. My heart is breaking. I can feel it breaking. The pain, it hurts too much. I can’t do this.” 

I must’ve repeated renditions of this several times while my mom tried to console me, both of us keenly aware that she was further away from me than either of us had ever experienced. I shoved my feelings aside, resolving that things would get better once school started and I was too busy to think about my homesickness. 

But things didn’t get better. I waited until the last day to pay tuition, convinced I’d get up and leave at any minute for the entire first month of law school. I was counting down days to go home, crying in the shower randomly, whispering “I want my old life. I miss my old life. I miss my home.” To add insult to injury, the living arrangement with my relatives wasn’t working for either of us. Whether intentional or not, I felt like an intruder in the worst of times and at best a tolerated visitor. 

I moved out on my own in February 2015, half-way through my first year. I found a lovely apartment and became excited about my very own bachelorette pad. I was excited to decorate, to play by my own self-imposed rules, to create a home. A home for myself. 

But it wasn’t that easy. I quickly panicked about being truly, fully on my own and it was like I was reliving my homesickness from the beginning. Netflix didn’t help. Google didn’t help. I tried every trick I could think of to help me out of this funk. Finally, I saw a therapist through counseling services provided by the university. While she bestowed many strategies and ways of thinking about my situation I hadn’t considered, the single greatest one was this: 

“Maybe home is a feeling you carry with you inside of you. Maybe it isn’t rooted in your family, in your home city. You can harness those feelings in you.” 

This changed my thinking radically. Over the next two years of law school, I would continue to feel torn between two worlds - my new city and the one I’d considered home. But I was able to build a home for myself in this new city and open myself up to new people and opportunities. I met people I will forever be grateful for. My experience living away made me stronger in so many ways. 

Still, I am only human. And I didn’t realize how deep some patterns run. Toward the end of 2017, I fell in love. Unintentionally. Whirlwind, inexplicable, non-sensical love. And as quickly as it began, as soon as I thought I could feel safe, he dropped me. He tossed me aside. Netflix didn’t help. Google didn’t help. I couldn’t understand why I was so affected by it, why I’m still affected by it - even now. I chalked it up to my softness, my sensitivity, my giving heart. But it’s more than that. I poured myself into him. Into wanting him to be happy. Into wanting him to like me. Into wanting him to love me. And he did not pour himself into me, he did not invest in me even a fraction of what I gave. 

I stumbled across a talk by Canadian Lebanese author and poet Najwa Zebian (I highly recommend her talks, she is a complete inspiration) and I figured out what happened. She talks about how the biggest mistake we make as people (especially people who are real givers, sensitive and emotional) is that we invest in other people. We build homes in other people instead of building homes within ourselves. And when they walk away, they take those homes with them and we are left feeling empty. We feel betrayed. We feel abandoned. Much as I hate to admit it, I feel empty. I feel heartbroken. I’ve come to realize that I have spent my life building homes in others and until now, those people haven’t left (because I’ve been lucky that I built homes within my closest family members). So I never came to understand the danger in doing that. Heck, I didn’t even realize I was. 

I built a home in someone else, forgetting about myself entirely. All logic and reason out the window. And now that he’s gone, it doesn’t matter how many times someone tells me he was wrong for me. It doesn’t matter that my brain knows it. My heart can’t feel it. My heart doesn’t understand. My heart only feels the missing home. 

The gloss is gone. I am uncomfortable. I am lost. I am questioning everything. I am entirely uncertain. Yet I am also hopeful. I am excited, in the weirdest way. Don’t misunderstand, this doesn’t mean that my smiles, my “bubbliness”and my love for others are a facade I’ve concocted. Those things are part of me, of who I am and who I want to be. 

But I need more, for me.  

And although I don’t know quite yet how to do it, I will build a home within myself. I’ll paint the walls around my heart and furnish my soul. I’ll be selective and thoughtful about both the decor and the visitors.  

My home is a feeling in me, and it’s a masterpiece in progress. 

[fhealync]

🏠 Hold tight to the ones who make your heart feel at home. Tag your special person below to remind them how much they mean to you! 💕

[everydaylovejourney]

What Home Feels Like?

Me: Home isn’t a place. Them: Then what is it? Me: It’s the feeling of being safe in someone’s presence. It’s where love speaks without words, where silence is comforting, and where you are understood without explanation. Them: So… home is a person? Me: Sometimes, it’s more than one. It’s the hearts that hold you together. ❤️

[everydaylovejourney]

Home isn’t a place—it’s a feeling. It’s the warmth of a familiar laugh, the safety of an embrace, the quiet understanding between hearts. 💛🏡 The strongest homes aren’t built with walls, but with love that never fades.✨

💬 Reblog if you’ve found your home in the hearts of those who love you.

[palepostbear]

“Home is where love resides, memories are created, friends always belong, and laughter never ends.”🏠

[kj-nanray]

Let me help you find your way home. Send me a message with what you're looking for so we can get started today! #thewayhome #homeisafeeling #happyhome #dreamhome #vivalasvegas #lasvegas #lasvegasrealtor #lasvegasnv #lasvegashousingmarket #lasvegassign #housingmarketupdate #housingmarketexpert #realtor #realestateagent #lasvegasliving #lasvegasevents #centennial #lasvegaslocal #kjnanray #kjnanrayrealtor #kjsellsvegas #desi #desirealtor #desiamerican #punjabi #houseforsale #forsale #helpfulagent #northwestvegasrealtor #lasvegasdesi (at Las Vegas, Nevada) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfHkPiuPg2J/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=