When I was a little kid, my idea of home was a place where the furniture looked familiar. Guess that is not asking for much!

Later on I learned that other people feel that home is a place where they belong and feel comfortable. I have never, ever felt that, not in over seventy years of living in different places. Twice I have lived in one place for over twenty years, and I still did not feel that way. Every single place I have lived has always felt temporary.

When I figured out how I had been abused and what its effects were, I came to a whole new idea of home. It’s being at home with myself, being reconnected to parts of myself that had previously been cut off. I belong together and I finally feel comfortable.