Over the past years of intense travels, the most frequent questions I’ve been asked is “Where’s home? ”. Believe me or not, some days, I was not sure anymore about the answer.
Is home France? Where I was born, where my family lives….
Is home UK where my boyfriend has been living and waiting for me?
As tough I can be about France, it is HOME. I was born in France. My family lives in France. The love for food and life I have definitely come from France. My native language is French and France is home for many other reasons I listed here.
Last year, as I put an end to my crazy glob trotting life, I finally “settle down” in Scotland. Meaning : lived at the same place for more than 6 months in a row. Even if the transition to a calmer pace was a bit of an adjusment for the first months… I liked it! Seven months later and dozens of cardbox and suitcases packed and un-packed – we ended up in Bristol, UK. I guess the Skies did not want me to settle down too fast ! 🙂 And surprisingly enough, after less than 2 months in Bristol, I told myself “this could be home too.”
Is this something I should feel bad about? In times I miss France, I would probably say – yes. But for all the other days, I embrace the duality and ambiguity of where “home” is for me and when the “where is home” question comes, I proudly say “I am French but live in UK”. As if I could not dissociate both “homes”.
I was recently browsing books and came across a quote from Pliny the Elder, which is the nicest and most poetic way of putting words on the way I feel today: “Home is where the heart is”.
There could be as many “home” as places one feels linked to…Isn’t life lovely ?