Settling In

I've been in my new home for a week now, and it's awesome. Every day I put a few more things away, get rid of a couple more boxes, figure out where to put something, assemble a table or chair, and organize the kitchen. Today I took a nap on my couch, with the new pillows I bought at Ikea and the afternoon sun streaming through my windows. It was peaceful and felt like...home.

Home is an important word and a more important place. It's where you feel safe, where you feel comfortable, where you leave your heart and where you always feel welcome. "Home," has been a rather elusive place for me the past few years. There was a time when I was between homes and longed for a place of my own. But the time wasn't quite right.

I lived with my sister for a little while. Then there was a short stint with my friend Cat on her floor, an even shorter stint in Murray, and then my over a year stint on Wilson in Sugarhouse. I truly enjoyed my time there, and know that I met some really great people that influenced my life for good. But, for how great it was, I still longed for a place to call my very own. I attribute it to the fact that we moved a lot when I was growing up, and I don't have a parents' home to go to as my parents have divorced, moved, and remarried.

But again, as with many things in my life and the overarching theme of the past few years, I needed to be patient. Before moving to my previous abode in Sugarhouse, I was deciding between it and a place downtown. I've always wanted to live in downtown Salt Lake, but the place didn't feel right. I remember telling my mom, as I turned the place down, that when I moved downtown, I wanted it to be to a place I loved and on my own terms, where I wouldn't have to live with roommates. A year and three months later, I got what I wanted. (Not to say that roommates aren't good, and that mine weren't awesome, because they were.)

I have very acutely felt that I need my own home. I really feel like I have it now.