For many students, college is the first time they leave their homes to live independently. Students often live in dormitories or apartments and decorate their space with posters, pictures, lights or plants — anything to make the new space feel more like home.
In my experience, students don’t enjoy calling their dorms “home.” After a long day of class, they’re more likely to say, “I can’t wait to get back to my dorm and take a nap” than “I can’t wait to go home and take a nap.”
Sometimes, I’ll even catch myself calling my 610 Beacon St dorm my “home” and internally correct myself because it’s not my home—at least not permanently. I’ll move out in a couple of months just to put my stuff in a new place on campus.
My real home is in a small town in New Jersey, right off of the George Washington Bridge. It’s old, but it has charm, with high cathedral ceilings and a funky spiral staircase.
It isn’t perfect, but it’s my home — or at least it was.
For a long time, I knew my family was going to move. My old house had flaws, and everyone — including myself — was ready for a change.
So why has it been so hard to accept the change that comes along with the move?
Spring break is in less than two weeks. I’ll be living in this new house for the first time, and I have an overwhelming sense of fear that it won’t feel like home.
I’m not the first person to move out of their childhood home during college, and I’ve had conversations with friends where they’ve expressed concerns about how nowhere truly feels like home to them anymore.
I’m worried that something similar might happen when I return from college. Instead of feeling comfortable and relieved, I’ll feel unfamiliar and awkward, like I’m staying at a friend’s house for a week before I return to Boston.
I’ve often heard sayings such as “home is where the heart is,” but how am I supposed to call this new place “home” without the proper time to love it?
I’ve sat with these thoughts since I returned to Boston from winter break. While I still feel uncertain, I’ve realized that this process is very bittersweet.
For starters, I get to redecorate my room, which, as mentioned, is an integral part of making a “house” a “home.”
The house is objectively nicer than my old one, which is also something to look forward to.
More importantly, though, I get to push myself out of my comfort zone. I’ll meet my neighbors, find a new park where I can spend time with my sister and familiarize myself with the town roads.
The thought of leaving my old town, my childhood friends and memories behind is frightening. However, starting anew can be exciting too — I get to make new memories and create a new sense of home.
Change is inevitable, especially for college students. We change our majors, friends, clothes, style, housing and even parts of our identity.
It’s a natural part of being independent and figuring out who you are. There is nothing wrong with change.
Just as I am learning to redefine what “home” means to me, I am also learning that change, while uncomfortable, is an opportunity to create something new rather than mourn what was left behind.
I won’t be stepping inside my old home again since by the time March 7 comes, my family will be all settled in our new house. I said goodbye to my childhood house on Jan.19, and although it was difficult at the time, I’ve learned to cope with the change.
For those who are trying to figure out what home means to them, your feelings are valid. Home is so much more than just a place, though. It’s not just an address — it’s something we create through connections, experiences and the memories we make there.
