When people talk about home, they usually start with a place. A street, a childhood house, a town they grew up in. For me, it’s never been that simple. Home has changed locations, but the feeling has always stayed the same.
I spent the first ten years of my life in Pennsylvania. Although I was young, I remember a lot of the details from my childhood home, the way weekends felt slow, the way my parents tried to make every small thing feel fun, the comfort of knowing exactly how the days would go. When we moved to Tennessee, everything else was different: new school, new routines, new people. But my family felt the same, so the idea of “home” came with us without much effort.
Looking back, the moments that made each house feel like home weren’t huge events. It was things like my mom calling me into the kitchen just to talk while she cooked, or my dad trying to fix something and somehow making the situation of something being broken funny, or spending hours playing Mario Cart with my siblings. It was evenings when everyone ended up in the same room without planning it. Those little things stuck with me more than any house layout or address.
Our holiday traditions especially feel like home. Every year, my mom and I make gingerbread men together, and as a family, we spend a good amount of time watching Christmas movies and making fun of the cheesy ones. This year feels even more special because it’s my first Christmas as an aunt, and I can’t wait to experience those traditions with my nephew. Just the idea of him being there makes everything feel more meaningful.
That’s part of why this Hand Up for Women project means so much to me. We’re working to help pay off the Miracle Ridge property, a place where these women can have the stability and privacy that so many of us grew up with without thinking twice. A home, whatever it looks like, should feel safe, steady, and yours. And if we can help give that feeling to someone else, then this work is worth every minute!
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