Something I’ve struggled with here is completely letting go of home–honestly, it just won’t happen for me in such a short period of time. Knowing that I’ll be going back in just a little over a month is enough for me to already be making plans with my loved ones at home who I miss so so so much, but I’ve been realizing that I feel more at home here than I thought I did.

Home is a strange word, and usually I associate it with being anywhere with my family and friends. Anywhere where I feel safe, comfortable, and surrounded by love from the people I care about the most. Cheesy, but very true.

Well, I’ve found a new home here and I’m far away from everyone I’ve ever known. And instead of just being a drive away, I’m all the way across the ocean, and would have to be in a plane for 8 hours before I arrived back there again. This has made me, at times, feel helpless, but has forced me to make a home here with what I have. So, I have a new definition of home: a place where, after a long day of school and work or perhaps a long week of traveling, you can come back to and feel comfortable by yourself. A place where you can unwind and relax and just feel content. My tiny room in Surbiton has become a place where I do hours of yoga a day, watch countless movies, and keep in touch with my friends and family. I’ve made so many memories here, and even though I have an entire basement and queen size bed waiting for me at home, I will miss coming back to sleep here every night.

So England might not really ever feel like home, but it’s become a place where I go back to after my travels, and that’s something special in itself.