by Nicoline Hansen
The question of what home means has never been something I considered. If asked what it is, I always give the default answer of “home is where I grew up” or “home is where my family is.” The definition of home has never been something I gave much thought.
It wasn’t until I moved to the U.S., a country on the other side of the globe from where I grew up, that I started considering what home really means to me. I guess the selection of default answers has never changed for me; it’s just that now there are other answers added to the selection.
Eventually, home started to become more of a feeling rather than a physical place. Home started to become where I felt comfortable being myself. Home started to become a place where I feel the most at peace with myself. It came as a big surprise that this new place could give me this feeling.
Accepting the fact that home does not need to be a location has been a strange process. When I first arrived in the U.S., I had a hard time believing that I would ever feel completely comfortable. How could I when I was so far away from my physical home in and everything that was known and comfortable to me? I began to realize I had found a place that had all the things I feel comfortable with while allowing me to discover sides of myself that I never knew existed. As a result, I am an even better version of myself.
What used to feel unknown and strange now feels comfortable and normal. I have realized that some aspects of my new life here make me feel more at home than ever. However, there are still things here that will never compare to my own country and culture and that is alright. There is no reason to compare the two places because honestly it is not possible. My life is not the same here in the U.S. as it is back home, but I am lucky to have two places that make me feel at home. How lucky am I to have two completely different places make me feel so comfortable being myself?
“I said sentences like this with such ease and without even thinking about it. It was not until one of my friends pointed out that I used the word ‘home’ to refer to both the Denmark and the U.S.”
I have just gotten back to the U.S after spending three months in Denmark over the summer. There is something so incredibly special about coming back to your roots after a long time. I am sure that many international students and even out-of-state students can understand this feeling. I got to hug my family again, eat all the food I had been missing, and explore my childhood home all over again. When my visit in Denmark was coming to an end, I noticed that I started saying things such as, “It has been nice being back home, but I am also very excited about going back home to the U.S.” I said sentences like this with such ease and without even thinking about it. It was not until one of my friends pointed out that I used the word “home”’ to refer to both the Denmark and the U.S.
In that moment, I really started thinking about what home really means to me. When saying my goodbyes, I would even take offense if people said ‘have a nice trip’ because the U.S is no longer a place I just go to visit; It is now a place I live, where I go to school, and a place where I experience day-to-day life. The U.S is now just as much my home as Denmark.
