Exploring the Notion of “Home”
Have you ever seen every single thing you own laid out in front of you?
I have.
Multiple times.
At my birth, my mom left my French dad in Dakar, Senegal, and moved back to tiny her hometown in Iowa (Midwest USA) to live temporarily with my grandparents until she got back on her feet. New Start.
At age 4 my mom got remarried and we moved into a new house with her husband and my two step-sisters. New Start.
At age 6 we moved out of the house my mom bought with her abusive ex-husband back to my grandparents. I remember only caring about my toys. And I missed my stepsisters. New Start.
At age 6.5 my grandparents helped my mom buy a house and I moved in. New Start.
Sadly that was short-lived due to my mom’s mental highs and lows. My grandparents “rescued” me. New Start.
For many years until age 11, I stayed at my grandparents but I never felt it was my home. It was a favor to my mom, like long-term babysitting. Every year for 2 months I traveled with my dad in France and lived out of a suitcase. My dad worked in Africa and didn’t have a home.
At age 11, I was taken to a shelter and put in foster care and a juvenile delinquent home. I was moved around a dozen times in two years. I saw the worst…
