Home

There's nothing like coming home after a long period of good travel -

unpacking all your treasures and cleaning what you took with you.

I don't mean just the carry-ons and baggage you checked in.

I am changed, I am better, and I know what home really is - it's not people (can be, but is not always),

it's where my heart is.

It's this space that I always come back to, that I carry with me when I move through these man-made lines;

It's me, it's the square footage in this world I call mine in all my rights, for it's what I claimed, then created & curated with pieces of my soul.

And as I look around at it anew, it's beautiful.

And as much as my mind might wrestle with me about my worth and being good enough,

it's hard to not win this fight when the physical evidence of the contrary is what I exist within.