Something interesting about the word home is that it is typically associated with feelings of comfort. However, at 23 home takes on a whole new meaning for me. When I say home I may be referring to my hometown of Alvin where I built relationships with my best friends and still to this day they are the individuals who have my back no matter how far apart we may be in distance; thats a good definition of home. Or I may be referring to San Marcos, my one bedroom apartment where I reside with my four legged family members in a temporary home I've decorated and carefully curated to express my style and be my 'happy place'. Or I may even be referring to an island on the Gulf Coast where my parents have created their happy place and I visit for holidays or those times when you really need to get away; what better place than a home with free food and palm trees?! See all of those definitions illustrate a home for me and I am so thankful to have so many safe places to visit. However, it also leaves me with a sense of discord. If I cannot define home as one place, one group of people, one moment in time, then how confusing it can be to define something even larger like myself and my purpose! To some, home may be an address or a feeling when they are amongst family, but for me as an ever evolving student, entrepreneur, and woman open to following whatever doors open I am unsure if this lack of definition in my life is frightening or exhilarating. I think this is a feeling many people experience when they move away for the first time or leave a job that defined them or start college or even end college... but as I looked at this sign on my wall today I thought of all the walls this sign has hung on. All the walls that have protected me and been a home. Then I thought of how terrifying this feeling must be for someone who's "home" is not a place of safety. Someone who's home is full of fear or abuse or grief is obstructed; how their ability to define them self and their passion is also hindered by this lingering definition of home: what we think a home should be, what we wish a home should be, or our inability to even define home for ourselves. I listened to a few podcasts today from women who have been "house-less", had to leave their homes due to the extreme grief present, and other circumstances that led them to question this same definition and redefined their purpose in life. I found this to be extremely enlightening in that they found a way to create the circumstances they needed, create the home they needed, and find a path that led them to helping others. Then there is the eternal home of heaven. Sometimes when we become truly hopeless we hear of amazing, wonderful sisters and brothers taking their life to leave this temporary home on earth and (depending on your universal beliefs) becoming a member of the best home imaginable. This is not a home you can be prepared for when moving day arrives, but one in which your definition and hopes of home become reality. While I have no enlightening end to this tale I just ask you all to reflect on what home means to you; feel free to send me (or comment below) your definitions as I'd love to add them to this blog post as I craft my own.