Home

It's where the heart is, or so I'm told.  It's funny how we pshaw cliches until we find one that might actually sum up our lives.

I live in a beautiful house and have been living here for just about 9 years now.  It's the longest my family has ever stayed put in one place, let alone in one country.  My life can be categorized by where we lived.  The years where I definitely don't remember were spent in Philippines, from when I was born to the age of 2.  The early years of my childhood, from 3 years old to 7 years old, took place in Bahrain.  I surprisingly have a pretty good recollection of my time spent there, thanks in large part to the dozens of beta max tapes my dad thought to preserve our memories on.  For the latter part of 7 years old up until I was 15 we lived in Canada.  Finally, when I was just about to turn 16, we moved to New Jersey.

In my 25 years of life, I have lived in 9 different cities, and resided in 5 different apartments and 3 different houses.  I have had plenty of places to call home.  The house I live in now is where I have lived the longest, and even though I lived away at college for 3 years, this house has always been my home base.

Until now.  I eat here, I sleep here, I live here.  But it no longer feels like home to me.  It feels more like it's my parents' house and I have overstayed my welcome.  Yes, I'm 25 and I still live at my parents' house.  It's never been an issue before.  In my culture, it's always been tradition for a child, especially a daughter, to live at home until it's time to get married and then she leaves her parents' home for her husband's.  In this day and age, financially speaking, I always thought it made more sense to move back home after college to save up money instead of letting it dwindle away on rent.

Now, however, I'm starting to feel like it might just be about that time to fly the coop.  Every time I head home after being out and about, I feel more like a tenant.  I've been itching for my own space for a few months now and I figure, I've been changing so many things in my life lately, what's one more?  I've talked it out with a couple of my nearest and dearest and they all agree it's about time.  I guess when you've made yourself comfortable, it's hard to notice when it's time to get going.

Is that why my dad kept us moving my entire life?

hmmmm.