Home

I hit my year anniversary of working at my job today. This year has seriously gone by so fast looking back at it... but I know when I was going through it, some parts felt like forever.

As I was approaching this year mark, I've become more contemplative about "home." I know I've addressed this a bit before in at least a few other blog posts, but since I've been thinking about it, I've decided to become even more contemplative and write about it. And so you get to read about it!  :-)

Home. I'm not entirely sure where my home is. My parents don't live where I grew up anymore. Plus, they're going to be moving once again next summer (this time possibly to another country) for three years, so wherever they end up will obviously not be home. And Provo isn't home anymore, but Boise isn't quite yet home, either.

Boise is starting to feel a bit more like home, though. Just the fact that I've officially been here for over a year now helps with that feeling. But a big turning point for me was visiting Provo the last few times. As much as I always love seeing my old roommates and occasionally a couple of other friends, it's also been hard. I think it's sometimes easy to forget that when you leave a place, the people there keep living their lives. So when I go back, there are inside jokes I don't know. Experiences I haven't shared. Relationships that I'm not a part of. Which is fine, because that's life. I've continued to live my life separately, as well. But that doesn't make it any easier to come to that realization.

But Boise still doesn't feel completely like home. Part of me still feels like Provo is. Which, when you think about it, does make sense. I lived in Provo longer than I lived anywhere else in my life (yes... I did move around quite a bit growing up). But as I thought about it more, it doesn't make complete sense. For the majority of the time that I was there, I was so excited to leave Provo as soon as I graduated. But that changed once I really made Provo my home.

What made Provo become home? It was when I finally stopped running and moving from place to place every 4 or 8 months. I told people that I moved a lot because I liked new experiences and meeting new people, which was true. But deep down, the whole truth was that I was scared. I was scared of staying in one place for a long enough amount of time to build deeper friendships, because I had deeper friendships in the past that didn't end well. So I didn't get close to people. I didn't let myself get vulnerable. I was great at making superficial relationships and then moving on... to a new apartment complex, a new ward, and new superficial friends.

This isn't to say that I didn't make friends in those first 4 years in Provo. I definitely did. But how many do I stay in real contact with? Very few... even people I was roommates with. I can seriously count those deeper friendships on one hand (possibly just a couple of fingers).

But then one evening in late June 2011, I made the fateful decision to move in with some girls from the ward I was currently in. These girls made Provo become home to me. It wasn't easy at first. For the next couple of months before I officially moved in, I was freaking out quite a bit (internally, of course). I had never before lived with people that I knew before I moved in with them. Up until that point, I had never pushed myself to make friendships become deeper, though a few had developed naturally. But I knew I was supposed to move in with them, and whether I wanted to or not, I opened up. I developed deep friendships with those girls. Shared parts of myself I normally kept hidden. They pushed me and I grew in ways I never would have if I hadn't chosen to live with them.

So why isn't Boise home? I haven't taken those same risks. I've grown and stretched a ton at work due to my responsibilities there.  I'm better at standing up for myself and others. I'm better at making decisions (well...sometimes). I'm better at being blunt when I have to be. I'm better at prioritizing and getting stuff done. I'm better at being part of a team to accomplish the work we've been charged with. But I haven't grown as much personally because I haven't opened up. Because I haven't let myself be vulnerable. Because I haven't risked.

So where is home? Home is where the heart is... but it's also where you make it. Homes aren't made magically. To have someplace become a home, it requires work. When I evaluate myself honestly, I haven't done enough work to make Boise become home. I need to start taking the steps to change that, because I know I'm happier when I live in a place I can call home. So even though I'm sometimes tempted to throw in the towel and move away (to another new place, job, or opportunity...especially when there are jobs I hear about in cool places that I could likely get), I'll keep pushing forward... at least for another year until I get licensed. (Having to deal with transferring hours to yet another state would be a PAIN). And maybe by that point I won't want to leave, because it's truly become home.