That time I found my home

For a long time, I was obsessed. 

I was obsessed with being in the perfect place. I thought that that was what mattered. I thought it was NYC, LA, Boston, Reno, Las Vegas, Missoula, Portland, Nashville — I obsessed over where I wanted to move to, and when I finally got Boston, I obsessed over what was next. 

"Boston is what you need," was said to me a lot. I had struggled a lot with wanting "more" in my life and not being happy with me, and myself and others thought a move was going to do the trick.

When I got to Boston, I longed to be back in Reno and planned future lives I might one day lead. 

What I realize now, is the move is not what I needed. 

I was what I needed. 

Because the truth is, you can run from your problems your whole life. You can uproot, you can envy those around you — you can long for another life. 

You can end up in your dream city and still feel empty inside. 

You're never going to be truly happy until you are happy with you. 

You are your home. Your mind, body, and spirit is where you live — it's not about where you are on the map. 

And I think I finally get that.

Of course, certain places are better for some than others, and sometimes you are drawn to certain places for creative or other reasons you cannot explain — but at the end of the day, you will never be happy until you are happy with you. 

The other day I thought about Reno, as I often do, and for the first time in four months, my heart didn't hurt. I love it, I appreciate it, and who knows, I might one day inhabit it — but my heart doesn't hurt for it anymore. 

I'm not hurt anymore. 

I'm good in Boston. I'm good with my apartment.

I'm just good. 

I traveled to Las Vegas this week for a work conference, and as I drove through the city I thought to myself, "I could live here."

And I could. 

I used to think, "no way." But really, I could live anywhere.

I could live anywhere now, because I realize that really, I am living in my body, mind, and spirit. 

I am my home, and for the first time in a long time, it's starting to feel like it. 

Anastasia Warren