Sometimes I get lost.

I get really lost and I don’t know why. Am I fulfilled? Am I lonely? Where do I belong?

I’m having these (ultra dramatic) thoughts today. Maybe it’s because I’m nursing a two day hangover, maybe it’s because I’m getting ready to go back to “real life” after the holidays, maybe it’s because I am a little lost.

And maybe that’s okay.

It’s weird, growing up.

I moved to Boston from Nevada knowing it’s what I always wanted — craving, “needing,” a new adventure.

When I got there, I realized that building a new life might not be as easy as I thought. That it’s hard to leave friends, family — loved ones behind.

I grew up in Montana, moving to Nevada for school and staying for 8 years before making that east coast trek. This year I went back to MT for Christmas. It was incredible, beautiful — filling. It was like coming back to somewhere I used to know.

But it wasn’t necessarily home, not anymore. Unfamiliar faces mixed in with my loved ones and great friends. Familiar signs and fonts and foods and smells… but things from so long ago.

Then, I road tripped to Nevada.

It had been a year since I moved away.

And it was a little different. Even though I still have amazing friends and family there, I wasn’t sure it was “home” anymore.

And now, I go back to Boston. And while I’m ready to jump back into my routine and life and new friends — I have only lived there a year. So I’m not sure it’s “home” just yet.

I’m not sure I know where home is.

Maybe I’m a little lost.

Maybe that’s okay.

Because the truth is, while I’m “lost,” I’m growing. I’m learning. I’m making mistakes. I’m taking chances (or at least working on it). I’m learning what I like and don’t like, who I do and don’t want to be. And maybe I’ll look back and regret a few things, but maybe I don’t care.

Because maybe I am light years ahead of where I was a year ago.

And that is all I could ever want for myself, today.

So I’m not perfect. Not even close. I get anxious. I question everything. I shut myself off. I’m a people pleaser.

But I’m doing my best. And when I’m not, I’m trying again.

So maybe I am home. Maybe home, at least right now, doesn’t have to be a place. Maybe I’m allowed to have an amazing life in Boston and a home in Nevada and a home in Montana and who knows where else in the future.

Maybe I’m a little lost, but maybe I’m moving, slowly but surely, in the right direction.

And maybe, this year, and all the years, that’s enough.

Anastasia Warren