Redefining Home
When I was 5 years old, my family relocated for my father’s company consolidation. In preparing for my first-ever move, I told my mom I didn’t want to go because I didn’t want to leave my best friend. She was understandably confused. She couldn’t pinpoint one friend that was my favorite or that I’d spent the most time with from preschool or our neighborhood, so she had to ask. “Who’s your best friend?”
Very emotionally, I replied in all seriousness, “My house!”
We laugh now, and honestly, I have no idea what that house was like, except for what I’ve been told or what I’ve seen in pictures in family albums. I was 5, but I knew I wanted to stay right there, at that house.
As I got older, I discovered I had an attachment to our houses. For example, I couldn’t understand my mom wanting to change and redecorate our family home. Why would she want to change anything about our house? It was perfect. It was ours. Leave it alone, geez!
I can tell you the number of places I’ve lived throughout my life (ahem, 15), and I can also tell you how many of them were in the state I grew up in—11. Eleven little residences scattered throughout Florida.
I thought home was a place. I thought home was Florida, or even the family house I grew up in down in Florida.
It never really hit me though, what home meant. I sure thought I knew, and as it turns out, somewhere deep down, maybe I always did.
To me, the word “home” has a new meaning now. One that I never would have discovered if I wasn’t a military spouse.
What I should have realized all along is that home is not a place. Home is people.
I had my family in my first house, the “best friend” house. I had family and friends in Florida. Places became associated with people.
Once you remove the people, that connection feels lost. My home is not my first house, nor is it Florida. Not anymore.
When my husband was away for his second six-week schooling before our third year of marriage, I decided to make him something. It would be special to give him a gift when he returned home, and it would also occupy the time my two part-time jobs just couldn’t fill! I made him this cross-stitch piece:
My new meaning of home is beautiful, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
It has nothing to do with a place anymore—house or state. Home is where my husband and I are blessed to be together.
On the days that he’s gone—for work trips, schools, deployments (thank goodness the last one was before we married), or the like—our place never feels the same. Even our cats know and hold it against me until he gets back!
But home never changes, and it’s always going to be there for us, wherever we are together.
If you would like your own military-friendly definition-of-home decor to display across your sure-to-be many homes, Army Wife Network has generated this free printable.
My friends, I’ve had the lucky privilege to be a military spouse for five years now. In that time, my husband and I have lived in four places within three states, and we’re most likely going to wind up somewhere brand new before our sixth wedding anniversary.
Home is such a fluid term for a military spouse, as you all know. If you’d like to expand your concept of home, I would like to encourage you to try out This is Where You Belong by Melody Warnick. It’s a great read for military spouses. At the same time as it explains just how real place-attachment is, it also gives great suggestions for making yourself feel right at home wherever you may find yourself.
What makes home feel like home to you? How do you make yourself feel right at home anywhere you land as a military spouse?
Love this one! You are absolutely right…home is wherever I am with my husband & daughter 💖