This weekend I went to my parents' house for dinner and ended up spending the night because of the bad weather and the long drive back home. I crawled into the extra bed thinking of how I felt somewhat at ease, not too different than if I was at home in my own bed. When I was 19 and I moved into my own apartment, my parents' home stopped feeling like home, but my new apartment never started feeling like it. I was there a year, and then to another apartment for two years, another apartment for a year, a rented condo for a year, and now, another rented condo, still not feeling like home. I like my condo a lot, its small, but its all mine and I have it decorated to exactly my taste (as much as my budget will allow). Admittedly, it is incomplete; I need more art for the walls, and I don't want to go the trouble of painting just to repaint again when I move. But still, why don't I have that true feeling of being "home", feeling completely safe and relaxed? Is it because I have moved so much? Is it because I don't live there with my family (parents or spouse/kids)? Is it because I don't have knickknacks?
When will I get that feeling of "home" back? When I buy an actual home, that is mine to paint however I like? When I find a partner and start my own family unit? When (and if) I have a child? When I stay in one place for more than five years? Or is that feeling of "home" something of childlike innocence that is forever gone? Or, to add a fun feminist twist, is this indicative of my patriarchal subconscious telling me that I should really secretely feel I should go from one man's house to another man's house? Nah, its probably just the knickknacks.
In any case, I miss it.
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