August 2, 2014


"Home is where the heart is."

"Home is anywhere you hang your head."

"There's no place like home."

My husband and I are bringing our baby to Minnesota for the first time later this month. I find myself talking about the trip not sure if I should call it home or just Minnesota. I moved to Chicago from Minneapolis in August of 2003, so exactly 11 years ago. I'm not sure if I would call Chicago home either. It's where I spent the majority of my 20s and 30s, pursued a formal education, met my husband, got married and had our baby. But I've left and moved back to Chicago within the last 11 years, nearly moved to yet another city and we don't plan on living here forever.

I didn't have one house that I grew up in. The house that I lived in during high school, the last few years I lived with my mother, now belongs to someone else. This trip will be the first time I see my mom's new home that she just moved into with her new husband. I've also moved around a lot as an adult. At the height of my moving around I lived in 5 different apartments and two cities within one year. So now I sit here thinking about what home means to me and where my home is. 

A good friend once said to me, "A city can never love you back." This was back when I was visiting him and seriously considering making my third maybe fourth move across the country. I remembered him saying these words when I chose not to move and instead take a chance on new love with the man who would eventually become my husband. So I don't believe that a specific place or city is what I would call home.

My home is where the people who I love and who make me feel loved are. My home moves around, has spread out, is concentrated in some areas and it is even in places I have never been to. There are many loved ones who I'm looking forward to seeing and spending time with when I take my family back to Minnesota. So I guess that does make it my home, it's just one of my many homes.

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