There’s no place like home

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People often ask questions about home: where it is, what it’s like, if you miss it and if you’ll ever go back. It’s a conversation starter, an icebreaker. At the end of 2011, the year I finished high school, if you asked about my home, I would have politely told you, “I love it, and home is home, but I am TOTALLY READY TO MOVE OUT”. On the inside, I was pretty much screaming “CAN I MOVE ALREADY”. I’m sure you all understand me, I just needed a break.

The first time I returned home after I had officially moved out, was when I finished/survived my first semester of university. I had never felt so happy, and so appreciative of the little, but loving home I had grown up in, as I sat by the fire in Dad’s Lazyboy chair and my family milled around me, business as usual. What had felt claustrophobic was now pleasantly familiar, comfortably enclosing me like a mink blanket. What had felt inadequate, dated and confining, now felt just right.

I’m 4 years out of home now. Every time I return, I get that same warm and fuzzy feeling. As I turn the creaky doorknob of my front door, slip off my shoes (#asianhome) and feel the stripy, spongy, scratchy carpet (that’s older than me) beneath my feet, I feel at ease (even after delayed flights, way-too-early wake ups and terrible flatting experiences). Having now lived in a university dorm, two student flats, one Beijing apartment and now an Auckland one, I can finally relate to the old saying, “There’s no place like home”. Dunedin was home to my student life, Beijing was a fleeting one, and Auckland, I’m still it feeling out.

However, my home in Wellington is something I know every crack and creak of. Someone will walk down the corridor, and I’ll know exactly who it is by their footsteps. The wind will blow and I know what will rattle, I know the way the water runs through the pipes. Home is where my family is, it’s where my heart is (#killingitwithcliches) and having spent 18 years growing up in it, no doubt it’s the home that’s built me.

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My brother, the boyf and myself went exploring round my ‘hood on Christmas evening. We watched the sun set across the city, and wow, was it a pretty epic sight. These moments were captured by my brother, except for the one I snuck of him!

Are you home for the holidays? What’s your connection with ‘home’?

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5 thoughts on “There’s no place like home

  1. I’m home for another month! It is so weird coming back here. It is familiar and comfortable…but it really feels like I have moved beyond this place now. Auckland is 100% my home and I am happy there. I love to come back to my parents’ house for a visit, but I start to go a bit loopy after a while haha.

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    1. Yes I feel very similar to you- it’s awesome being home but I’m glad I go back to Auckland soon because I have outgrown home now. Mum and dad are still telling me what to do haha and then it’s too much of a blast back to the past!

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