This is home to me. While I've lived only 2 years of my 24 there (so far)...I call the Outer Banks of North Carolina home. Anyone who's ever had the privilege of walking on these serene beaches will tell you, there's nowhere on earth like it.
My husband and I are currently in the process of trying to move "home". Right now our lives are on hold...a reality that I have to re-accept on a daily basis. We are constantly hitting speed bumps on our road home...and at times I feel like giving up...but I can't.
My definition of home has changed a lot over the past two years. We moved back to my hometown a little over two years ago in hopes of making a "better life" for ourselves. Our "better life", at the time, seemed to be dependent on financial security, family, and general stability. An interesting thing has happened though, nothing has turned out like we planned it. I realize now that it all boils down to our definition of home. I looked at a place that I had once called home, and expected it to fit the needs of my husband and I, like it had my entire life.
I now know better.
This time of waiting has opened my eyes to what home really means. To me, being home means willing to downsize and move into a house that isn't quite my ideal home, in order to wake up every morning in the place that holds my heart. It means giving up conveniences in order to walk next to my husband down the stretch of beach pictured above. It means saying goodbye to the people I've known my whole life, to be with the people who love the same place I love.
I've never been more ready..to go home.
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