Everyone has their own definitions about home, about being home. So do I. I don’t base my definition and my story about home on dictionaries or books, just simply based on the way I feel about a place I call “home”.
For me, home is a place where I can share love with my beloved ones. I’m home when I’m with my beloved, sharing happiness and best moments, then I’m home.
For me, home is a place where I can feel the warmth of the family. A family is something that you always have for support, for love, for laughs and strength you need when the world outside becomes a little bit too hard to stand alone. My family is always there for me. hus
A home is a place where I can share my very own private things. Happiness, gratitude, hopes, dreams, or even fears, and tears.
A home is a place to keep in touch with my passions, my hobbies, and my world. I can express myself in my very own way, having me-time in unlimited ways. That’s being home.
One day after some tired, tough time, you always want to go back somewhere. Somewhere your heart belongs to. Somewhere you can give your body, mind, and soul a good rest to start a great, hopeful day tomorrow. That’s home.
A home is a place full of memories. Beautiful memories, and even if there is a painful one, you can just look at it and smile. That’s amazing.
A home can be a piece of art. You can decorate it the way you like, creating a masterpiece of your sense of art, taste of design, and let your creativity out.
A home can be the best office ever. The place where you feel comfortable the most, and you can do your work with a cup of coffee and a jar of inspirations.
For me, a home is a place where I can share love and happiness with my beloved ones, having best moments and quality time. You can feel the warmth of it, even in the coldest winter. A home is a place to express myself.
A home is a place to come back, to give my body, mind, and soul a rest. To end the day with grateful feelings and start the day with hope. My home is the representation of me; I want it to be.