Home is not a place. I read this on a friend’s status over a week ago and it didn’t leave me. I sat with it for a while. If home isn’t a place, then what is a home? And I reflected on the houses I’ve lived in and wondered what made me call some of them home and not others. I wondered why I could forget about some places and not others.

If home is not a place, what is it?

Home is where there’s comfort.
Home is where there’s safety to be oneself.
Home is where you run to when life is not going as planned.
Home is your safe place.
And your safe place is where you can be yourself; where you can trust that all is okay and have that feeling of peace.
Home is where there is love.
And all this is found in another person.
That person you can rely on, that person you call your safe place. That person who is consistent with what they say and do. Knowing they will always be someone you can turn to in your darkest moments and in your brightest light.

Because it’s not furniture or material items that make up a home. No matter how much you fill it with.
It’s the people you share your life with that make your house a home. The people you know would look after what you hold precious and near and dear as much as you do. The people who want the best for you and this allows them to become better versions of themselves too.

No, home is not a place. Home is love. And love is life. And without it, all becomes meaningless.
And love is not to be taken lightly. It has an impact many have tried to understand and can’t work out. It affects you in ways you may not even realise; in ways that you may not even think of. It gives you energy to be who you want to be. It inspires and motivates you and all of a sudden everything becomes easier and clearer.

Look after your home; wherever it may be.
Don’t take it for granted.
Be consistent in your words and actions.
Fight for what you truly want.
Protect your home, always.