By Will Linhares-Huang
“We’d better go home” I said to my family as I rested my head against the door rest and felt the soft humm of the car lulling me to sleep.
It was something I often said when we went out. So much so that my sisters bought me a crew neck featuring a drenched and angry Mickey, Goofy, and Donald along with the quote “We’d better go home.” It’s my favourite thing to wear. Unlike the Disney characters, however, it isn’t necessarily my dread of the mishaps of the outside world that draws me home. My love for home purely stems from an unwavering feeling of comfort.
I woke up to the sound of tires slowly crunching along the pavement. Right. Left. Left. Right. These were the best tiles for the most direct route to the door. As I turned the key into its fitted grooves and the cold air rushed in, I let out a deep breath and my shoulders relaxed. In one swift motion, my shoes flicked off and my bag slid to a halt against my spot on the couch. I sank into the soft cushions and pressed ‘play’ on my most curated playlist. My Mom was cooking my favourite Portuguese pasta puttanesca and the smell of anchovy sauce wafted across my room.
Sometimes my methodical coming home routine varies slightly: a spontaneous nuzzle with my dog, an unscripted taking away of the garbage, an impromptu chat with my sister. However, the end result is always the same: a never-failing feeling of warmth.
Over the years, however, I have learned that home does not have to be static. My concept of sanctuary is not necessarily confined to the four corners, walls, and roof that make up my physical residence. Instead, home is where my community and heart lies.
Throughout my life, the search for new homes is the spark that fosters growth and exploration. I believe that is my greatest talent .