Sometimes, I realize that I have gone my entire life thinking that something is solid, immutable, incontrovertible.
Then I get proven wrong.
As a kid it was little things. It turned out, I liked spaghetti sauce. And teachers exist outside of school. And the tooth fairy was not the one swapping my tiny teeth for money.
Part of growing up accepting that things are less fixed than they may seem. As a college student who attends school far away from where I grew up, a big part of this fixed/not fixed problem is the idea of “home.” How do you decide when one place starts becoming your home and another place stops?