Home Is Not a Place.

A Reflection on Belonging, Freedom, and Self-Acceptance.

The concept of "home" has been a constant puzzle for me, one I’ve grappled with for as long as I can remember. Despite my parents still living in the same house where I grew up, I've never truly felt at home anywhere. This realization—especially as I get older—leads me to believe that home isn’t tied to a physical place. Logically speaking, we move through so many houses and cities over our lifetime, it seems impossible that home could be confined to one specific spot.

Perhaps, like love, home is not singular but multifaceted. It takes on different forms at different stages in our lives. Just as our capacity to love expands, so does our ability to find "home" in diverse places, wherever we are. A traveling person, for instance, learns to find home wherever the journey leads.

We often say, “This feels like home,” which suggests that home might be more of a feeling than a place. A feeling of belonging, perhaps—a deep connection to something larger than ourselves. But that, too, is complicated. Choosing what or who you belong to is no less difficult than choosing a physical space to call home. And here’s where it gets messy for me, so messy, in fact, that I’m struggling to put it into words.

Belonging is tied to community—your people, your tribe, your ancestry, your land. I come from a mixed household, with a mother whose homeland no longer exists. It’s a rare and complex situation, one that makes you feel as though your community was taken from you, your history rewritten, and your land lost. The weight of it all is hard to articulate—there are too many layers of secrets and complexities, many of which I hope will be buried with me. The only hope is that, in time, I might separate the trauma from the truth and protect my family from the shadow of that history.

A few years ago, I came across a quote by Maya Angelou that settled softly in my heart:

“You are only free when you realize you belong no place—you belong every place—no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great.” – Maya Angelou.

For someone like me, this quote could have been painful if it weren’t for the last part: “The reward is great.” Perhaps the freedom I’ve been seeking isn’t in the debate over what "home" means, but in releasing the need to make it rigid.

I can be free from that struggle by accepting that the idea of home isn’t fixed. Instead, it’s something fluid—something that flows like water and dances like air.

Dr. Brené Brown, too, offers wisdom on belonging:

“Belonging is being part of something bigger than yourself. But it’s also the courage to stand alone, and to belong to yourself above all else.” – Dr. Brené Brown

Home, then, is not just a place. It’s the space where I feel safe enough to belong to myself, surrounded by familiar faces, smells, tastes, and sounds. It’s the union of the grand and the small, where I can exhale completely, feeling unreservedly held by acceptance and love.