What and where is home?

Picture: Quiberon, Bretagne, as seen from the upstairs' window.

As I have been living abroad for the best part of the last ten years, the word ''home'' has multiple feelings and meanings attached to it. This little post will explore exactly what these are, how they change and evolve, and why maybe I am so all over the place, both literally and figuratively.

When I first moved to London in 2012, "home" was linked with France, the country where I grew up. I did not think twice about it. I was going home for the holidays, and I was living abroad. As to exactly where in France, the feeling of homeliness was oscillating between Paris where I grew up and Quiberon where we spent quite a few weekends and all holidays in our family home.

Paris should have been then my home by definition, but in order to call it "home", I would have had to "feel" at home. And that is where Quiberon enters the equation, as it has always had more of this warm and fuzzy welcome feeling, and I can relate more to it somehow than Paris. I did not fit with the Parisian lifestyle and did not enjoy too much my time in Parisian schools. I always felt that I did not a hundred percent belonged there. Quiberon for me has always been soothing, dreamy and a place where I could be myself and not be judged for that. Nothing calms me more to this day than a walk on the wild coast.

But let's go back to London and jump in time. About two years into my stay in London, when I started feeling like a Londoner, the concept of home changed once again. This time it was between France and London itself. It made more sense for me to call London home, as I grew increasingly distant from my French life. I had switched the croissant for the buttery crumpet, the coffee for the tea with milk, the terrasse drinks for the cozy pub. English became my favorite language to express myself in, and it became easier for me to share my emotions through that language.

While studying and after graduating with my Bachelor's in Journalism and Sociology, I started working in the capital and had my first serious relationship. My circle of friends became home. I had my familiar places and despite moving flats multiple times, the city became the place where I thought I would grow old.

And then came October and November 2015 crashing. A breakup, my friends returning to their countries and, a few weeks later, the worst terror attack in Paris. The latter took place while I was visiting my family for the weekend. And all of a sudden, I realized that deep inside home was where my family and my growing up were. I felt at home only in France then.

Going back to London felt strange after it. I was getting increasingly detached from the city, and it felt more like a foreign land to me again. Brexit in 2016 did not help and triggered the need for a change. About a year later, in 2017, after a random twist of events (read more here), I ended up starting a new life in Dublin.

That is where a new concept of home started, once again. I do think as well that the reason I get so attached to places and people to the point of calling them home is that I am quite a sentimental person. So Dublin, I instantly adored the city. The prettiness of its city center and surrounding nature, the Master's degree in Peace studies and the group of friends I met there, the musical pubs, the fact that it is human-sized and friendly, my lovely work colleagues... All of it made me feel in the right place, minus the incredibly cold and windy weather and the not so great living conditions.

Yet, despite it being the ultimate let's say physical home, I still ended up in Munich last year, in November 2019, following as per usual a series of life events. Home in Munich is life with my boyfriend, in our lovely flat. A safe place for me to evolve and improve and be my own self and actually in a sense my better self. Heartwise I have definitely reached the home level.

As for the city itself, I have yet to call it home. It is a bit tricky. I do like it, it is comfortable, the mountains are wonderful. I don't think I've been so healthy since I moved abroad. But in terms of feeling, it is not yet home. The covid crisis did not help as well, since it has been closed for the most part and life spent indoors, including a quarantine. It does have the potential to become home though, and once the city reopens, once my social life gets back on track and my German reaches my English level, then I might be able to feel truly at home there.

So to sum up, home to me is multiple things: we have the heart home which is with my boyfriend, the growing up and family home which is in Paris mostly but with important years shaping me as I am in London. The feel-good home, Quiberon, and the city that matches me the most, Dublin.

Maybe home is a mix of all of these places and people because the heart is a bit everywhere.

I am interested in you, what is home for you? Where is home?

Thank you for reading!