“Home” does not have to mean, “Where I grew up”.
Most of my youth was spent growing up near Detroit. Same for my two younger brothers. It is fascinating to consider their experience of Detroit, growing up in the 2000’s versus mine, growing up in the 80’s. They love the area; I am always staying as far away as I can. If my family was not there, I would never spend another minute there in my life and that would be one hundred percent fine with me.
For my brothers, Detroit is where they know every street name, where all their friends and family are, where they found their high-school buddies and first loves. The city itself is on the rise, growing up with them, and they can’t imagine really living anywhere else.
For me Detroit is where I was bullied, beaten, abandoned, and molested as a youth. It is where my best friend died, where my heart was first broken, where my marriage ended, where I lost my house and car, and the city itself was an infamous pit of decay and corruption when I was growing up.
It is interesting to me that the three of us can see the same city in completely different ways. Detroit is a city of hope for some, a city where hope goes to die for others.
That is probably true, in some way, of every city, which brings me to my point. A city is where people are supposed to go to LIVE. Regardless of where you grew up, if it is not where you are happy, then it is not “home”. Keep looking.
Today’s Lesson: “Home” is where you live, not necessarily where you spent a bunch of your time.