Home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling

Home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling

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Lichtenberg, Berlin
June 6th, 2019 22:50

It’s raining outside but you don’t mind, you are home. The breadcrumbs all over the kitchen floor, the empty fridge and the postcards, that you diligently collected during your trips, hung on the wall. A small flat in a student dorm in the middle of nowhere.

Home. How can you call ‘home’ a place like this?

You haven’t found a proper answer yet but deep in your heart you know it.

You feel safe

You know that no matter how bad your day is going to be, your Nutella will be waiting for you. Well, your chocolate cream. You’re just too broke to afford the real one.

You feel curious

“Alba, how do you call ‘peppers’ in Spanish?”. You don’t even like peppers but you just feel the necessity to know it. You’re probably going to forget the word she had just pronounced and you’re going to ask her again (probably more than once) or even worse, you are going to start saying it out loud way too often, usually in the less appropriate moments. Pimientos. I just love this word.

Courious Erasmus Traveller
Photo by @Sylviezao

You feel brave

Trust me, it’s not that easy to eat a Carbonara with cream.

You feel wiser

You have met people from all over the world and you’re not the same person anymore. You see the world through new eyes and you don’t judge people as you used to.

You feel happier

Not because your life at home wasn’t great, but just because it wasn’t enough anymore. That’s why you left. That’s way you’re going to leave again.

Happy Erasmus Travellers

You feel challenged

After all, you’re a small town girl and living in Berlin might be difficult sometimes, but you don’t mind. Your first Erasmus changed you and there’s no chance to forget all the amazing memories you had, the great people you met but especially the way you felt. Now you’re ready to face your fears and for once in your life to allow yourself to take risks.

The risk to fall in love.
The risk to move abroad.
The risk to become a different person.
Maybe I’m not that small town girl anymore.

“Michela, we’re running out of toilet paper” Helen says.

Too bad, duty calls.
See you soon, dotters.
Dream big!

Written By Michela Gargiulo


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