There’s No Place Like Home, or Is There?
I was born and lived 18 years of my life in Mesa, Arizona. And unlike Dorothy, I never quite felt like there was "no place like home."
Instead, I felt like there was no place like my grandma's home. And, I've since felt like there was no place like home in New York City. I've even, for nearly 20 years now, felt very much at home in Utah. But, I never felt like Arizona was my home. And I've often wondered if anyone else felt the same way about the place they were born.
Don't get me wrong. I love it there. I am thrilled every time I can go back to visit. I get excited at the thought of going to Matta's for Mexican food with my grandpa. I start salivating, thinking of doing Sunday dinner with my mom's side of the family. I get giddy thinking of hanging with all my girl cousins on my dad's side of the family. I especially love it when all of this can take place in the winter months, to give me a reprieve from the cold for a bit. But, I don't get home sick for Arizona. I don't feel an ache if I've been away for too long—from the people for sure, but not the location.
At times, I've questioned myself. Am I a traitor for feeling this way? Other people seem so tied to and take such pride in where they're from. Did anything so wrong happen, causing me to not feel at home there? Nope! I had a great upbringing and was surrounded by wonderful people and lots of love.
So... I'll leave it at that. Mesa, Arizona is a place I love to visit, made up of fabulous people, and wonderful memories, but just isn't home to me.
How do you feel about your home town? Is there no place like home to you?
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