Home is not always geographical – it is emotional, too.
The dictionary definition of home is “the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.”
But “four walls don’t make a home.”
Home is that place where you take off uncomfortable shoes and itchy masks without the fear of being judged.
Love makes it home. “Love makes your soul crawl out of its hiding place.”- Zora Neale Hurston. You display those parts of you “they” have branded ugly without fear.
It is that place between harsh society, where you are compelled to bite more than you can chew, and the confines of your mind, where you take it easy, one sip at a time.
Home is that place you can take off your wigs and belch loudly.
It is that place you wear your boxers around, even when there are holes in it.
It is a place where you feel accepted without anyone judging you – it is a safe space.
If you don’t get this in a house, you might not call it home.
Home is mostly emotional – anywhere can be home. Anyone can be home.
Anyone can be home.
Those people that see us for who we are – flaws, errors, faults, good – and go on to love, respect, and accept us are home.
Those people that don’t judge our innocuous choices are home.
They are home because they are family.
Family is not always a people related by blood.
Family are those people we choose to love, not those people we met by “default”.
Don’t be so loving to love people that hate you.
You are under no obligation to endure toxic relationships because of blood ties.
Loyalty, love, and mutual respect are what make us family, blood means we are “related”.
Blood is thicker than water, but it can be diluted.
If you must leave, leave.
Never hide your pain.
“If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” – Zora Neale Hurston.