So, where is home?

Where exactly is home?

So, in the words of the Paul Young song apparently, home is wherever you lay your hat?  But is it?  I’ve lived in Kenilworth for 28 years now, long enough for it to feel like home, but here I am, sitting in a coffee shop on Oxford Street feeling more at home than I do in my real home!

Love it!

It begs the question, is home where you live or is it where you feel most comfortable?  I chose to leave home at the age of 17 and move to London, it was a conscious choice because I felt that London represented the way I felt towards life, and the 13 years I spent here were amongst the happiest of my life.  I still feel as though I’ve ‘come home’ whenever I visit and strangely, the children feel the same way.  Maybe the children love it here because I feel my most relaxed and happy which impacts on them or maybe we are all of the same ilk and just love the hustle and bustle of London life?

Either way, I miss it.  Most of my friends think I’m mad (which I think I probably am anyway!) to want to live in a concrete jungle but I just don’t see the city that way.  To me it’s a thriving, exciting mix of culture, activity and, well……life!  

So, do I wish I’d never left?  In a way I guess, but I do believe that my children have benefited more from being brought up in the countryside, in a sleepy little town where nothing much goes wrong.  It’s been an idyllic setting for their childhoods and I don’t regret that one little bit.  Which now begs the question, is home where your family is?  I think in my case that’s absolutely right, wherever my children are is the place that feels right and therefore feels like home.

That doesn’t stop me wishing I had a little ‘bolt hole’ in the big city though, somewhere I could come to for a few days when I felt in need of some serious activity.  Now what’s that Lottery saying?  If you’re not in it, you can’t win it…….oh dear, that counts me out of that one then!

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