The address on your driver's license might just look like a building, apartment, or house– but it is more than that. It is a home.
The meaning of home is a little different for everyone. It might be that distinct “home smell” that hits as soon as you walk through the door. For others, it's their mom making a home-cooked meal as their pet softly purrs in the corner. No matter what your home looks or sounds like, it's a reflection of who you are and where you come from.
For me, there truly is no place like home.
I’m an out-of-state student from Maryland, about 8 hours away from Knoxville. And I’ve definitely fallen in love with my life here between the friends, my apartment, and the community around me, it feels like my own space. But nothing compares to pulling into the driveway back in Maryland, after a long car ride, knowing that I’m finally home. The comfort in that moment just can’t be recreated anywhere else.
The funny thing is, as much as I love my home, I also love to travel.
The summer between my junior and senior year of high school (somehow already 3.5 years ago) I got the opportunity to go to Greece. My best friend, who had moved to the U.S. from Athens a few years prior, was going back for the summer and invited me to visit her. After months of begging my parents and counting down the days, I was finally 40,000 ft in the air over the Atlantic.
Everything from that trip was incredible: the food, beaches, late-night dancing and the people. I was truly living out my Mama Mia dreams. But through all that beauty, something felt off. I missed not having to use Google Translate every 5 minutes. I missed my mom's home-cooked meals. I missed my own bed. I missed home.
It was such a weird feeling... I mean, I was in Greece with my best friend... What more could I want?! I expected the language barriers and the sunburn, but I definitely did not expect this. No amount of aloe could fix it either.
When my two weeks in Greece came to an end, I was ready to go home. I remember my dad pulling into the driveway after picking me up in the airport. Finally, I was able to take a deep breath, one that just felt different.
My mom had fresh cookies and a room full of friends waiting for me. As cheesy as it might sound, I will never forget that feeling. The sense of warmth that no sun in Greece could have matched.
Over the years, my home has given me so many of those moments– the ones that make you feel safe and loved. Being lucky enough to experience this feeling time and time again, I want to help others find it too.
This fundraiser is more than raising money for women as they overcome abuse and addiction; it's helping them get back on their feet so they can build their own home. Because everyone deserves to know what it feels like to come home.
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