Four-lettered words are some of the most complicated: love, hate, pain, hope, home. If you ask a person to define them, there will never be one correct, all-encompassing answer. I love both my family and my dog, my best friends and sunrises, ice cream and freediving. Do I love them all the same way? Of course not (one would hope).Continue reading “On Travel + Life: How Do You Know If You’ve Found Home?”
48 hours of being home after almost a year of living abroad has been enough to make me feel like a moody teenager all over again.
Home is a four lettered word that can shape shift depending on the lips of the person speaking it. To some, home might mean a place to sleep for the night, while to others home might be the house that they grew up in, and to others still home is not a literal house, but wherever their loved ones are. My home will always be Cape May, the small South Jersey town where I grew up.Continue reading “Frustration, Sadness, and Adjustment: My First 48 Hours in America”
I’m currently sitting in the stillness that a house only knows in the early hours of the morning, with the moon just setting and the rooms still quiet. The time change from Thailand to New Jersey has left me wired and ready to take on the day while the rest of the coast is cozy in bed, yet to meet the chill of this December morning.Continue reading “Home Life After 5 Months Abroad”