I moved away from my hometown at the age of 30, and by my mid-forties, I took an even bigger leap cross-country. At first, I didn’t think I had it in me to leave the place where I grew up. Fear and self-doubt held me back, and to make it harder, the people I respected most advised me not to go. They meant well, worried for my future, but deep down, I felt I needed to at least try. In making that leap, I lost the familiar connections and routines of home. It wasn’t easy, but along the way, I discovered something important: home isn’t necessarily where you live it’s what you carry with you. For now, without my own permanent address, I’ve come to realize that I am my home. Wherever I go, I have the power to create peace, safety, and comfort for myself.

Ironically, Georgia, the place where I was born and spent most of my life, no longer feels like home. Whenever I visit now, I feel like a guest. It’s strange something I never imagined could happen. How could the place that shaped so much of my life feel unfamiliar? The truth is, it’s not just the place that has changed I have, too. I’ve grown, stretched beyond the boundaries I once believed defined me. Georgia is beautiful, but I’m no longer tethered to it. My heart is open to discovering new places, creating homes wherever I choose.

Life has a way of surprising us. What we once thought was permanent shifts, and with that comes the possibility for something greater. I’ve stopped resisting those changes and started embracing them. I don’t know where life will lead me next, but I’m willing to explore it fully. Maybe that’s what home really is not a single, unchanging place, but the journey of trusting yourself and letting life surprise you.