I went home to Boston over the weekend and I had an “Aha” moment. For years I have stated that I don’t feel like I have any roots or that I don’t really have a place that I call home. It’s because I have lived in a few different places in my life so far and I guess the concept of home began to blur after my third move.
It’s been five years since I’ve been back to the place I was born and raised. In that five years I’ve gone through a few transformations so this trip was over due and much needed even though it was just a weekend.
As I flew over Cape Code and looked out over the Atlantic I began to realize how much I have taken for granted about my home town. Boston, Massachusetts is a beautiful city that is full of culture, art and history. I walked around the entire weekend just reminiscing about my childhood; the good and the bad memories. I was able to take some time and reflect. My “Aha” moment was that I found my roots; I found the place that I can call home. The funny part is that it was in front of me all this time I just didn’t recognize it because I was expecting it to be wrapped up in a different package.
On this journey of learning how to love myself first I received an unexpected surprise, I managed to find my roots. I no longer have to think about where home is because I found it. There’s some security in knowing where home is.....and it may not necessarily be where you are currently residing. Think about it!
Stiletto,
Real Life, Real Talk, Real Women
It’s been five years since I’ve been back to the place I was born and raised. In that five years I’ve gone through a few transformations so this trip was over due and much needed even though it was just a weekend.
As I flew over Cape Code and looked out over the Atlantic I began to realize how much I have taken for granted about my home town. Boston, Massachusetts is a beautiful city that is full of culture, art and history. I walked around the entire weekend just reminiscing about my childhood; the good and the bad memories. I was able to take some time and reflect. My “Aha” moment was that I found my roots; I found the place that I can call home. The funny part is that it was in front of me all this time I just didn’t recognize it because I was expecting it to be wrapped up in a different package.
On this journey of learning how to love myself first I received an unexpected surprise, I managed to find my roots. I no longer have to think about where home is because I found it. There’s some security in knowing where home is.....and it may not necessarily be where you are currently residing. Think about it!
Stiletto,
Real Life, Real Talk, Real Women
Posts
We have always heard that home is where the heart is. I am glad you have been able to find that again. Now you have moved enough, don't go thinking about moving back to Boston...lol
ReplyDeleteHey Chanel,
ReplyDeleteI'll just say this, I can remember saying that I would never move back to Boston. Now I'm a firm believer, never say never!! LOL