When home isn’t home
For most, home is where the heart is. It is the place that no other city or country could ever compare. It is a sense of ease, familiarity and comfort.
But what about when home isn’t home?
A sense of belonging is something that is inherent to us. We are born into a family, with parents (in most cases) who provide us with a sense of belonging from day one. From that, we learn to belong with those we have selected around us and we call them our friends. We feel part of the immediate world we are surrounded by and it is this feeling known as home.
If I am being honest, I have never had those feelings in the place I grew up. Having felt my whole life like I don’t belong … well … anywhere, it is natural that I have more than a desire, but a need to explore the earth until I find exactly that. Having left Melbourne, the city I grew up in to search for my home, I was taken aback by just how quickly I felt at home in a city where I knew nobody. How strange that I could long for a place where I was yet to make any connections. Having now been essentially deported from the home I found, I am now facing the very imminent reality that I have to return to Melbourne. And honestly I am terrified.
My last trip to Australia, albeit brief, was so particularly traumatising that in mind I swore to myself I would never return. Unable to be in the country, without a flight out already booked, I have given myself one month to face a genuine fear of mine … returning ‘home’.
I believe in life, it is important to never be ruled by fear. It is this reason, and this reason only that in 3 days I board a plane Melbourne bound. I endeavour to prove to myself that I can appreciate Melbourne for the city it is, and not as a future candidate for home. To accept that we aren’t right for one another and to let go of the feelings of resentment and rejection attached to that. To see Melbourne through the eyes of a traveller and leave with a much more positive feeling towards the city.
More simply, to let go.