Hiraeth: homesickness for a home to which you cannot return; a home which maybe never was.

BelongingSelf LoveHomesicknessHome

Oct 18

Written By Kayla Kim Votapek

A house is a place where one lives.

It provides shelter and protects you from the rain.

It offers you a place to breathe. To let loose. To be free.

But when does that house become a home?

After you move all your stuff in?

After you lived there for a year? Five years? Ten years?

Is it the people who we live with that makes it a home?

Is it a place, individual(s), or feeling?

Home can mean contrasting things to different people. It could be a place where valuable memories took place. It potentially is a person or pet you love. For others, it’s a feeling. It’s knowing they are safe and able to truly be themselves.

As someone who has moved over 20+ places in 25 years, the question ‘What is Home?’ has brought up a whirlwind of feelings and confusion.

I have been searching most of my life for this sense of home. Yearning for this thing as if something is missing. But not knowing what it is.

I travelled to 28+ countries and multiple states trying to find what location feels right. I have put my faith and trust into individuals who have torn me apart. I have buried myself into work hoping that some answer would appear. Like a lightbulb would turn on.

My hiraeth has kept me up at night. It has made me jealous of those who seem to know what it is and anxious that I will never be able to find it.

What I realized is that everyone is searching for their “Home” in the world. We all want to know where we belong or who we belong with. Most recently, I realized we are never going to find it by searching for something that once existed or never even existed.

No matter where I am, who I am with, or what I am doing in my life, I will always miss the safety I once had as a kid. The memories I shared with those who have passed. The love that I yearn for from individuals who tremendously hurt me.

I will always be grieving the life of what could have been if I wasn’t adopted. I will perpetually ponder who my birth parents are and what my relationship with them could have been.

However, we truly are never going to find our home by looking in the past. We should acknowledge it and allow it to influence who we are.

Our lives are changing every day. Every decision moves us farther away from who we once were to who we will be. We are changing. We are growing. We are becoming.

Home should be our state of being. It’s ever around us and rooted inside of us. It’s moments, places, and people who allow us to feel safe and at peace in that particular instant. It’s the feeling of being connected to someone, to your surroundings, and to yourself.

We are so worried about our future or constantly wanting to change the past that we forget the present. We bypass what is currently happening. We ignore the people who are showing up and we create this cycle.

We need to find peace and joy in our daily lives. We need to focus our attention on what our current needs are and slowly make peace with who we are. Maybe then we can finally find our home, somewhere deep inside us, where it always was.