FINDING MYSELF IN THE JOURNEY AWAY FROM HOME

  

I was born and brought up in one place—a town where life felt predictable and warm, where the streets were known, where familiar faces passed by every day. That place gave me a sense of identity, security, and rhythm. It was where I felt I belonged. And for a long time, I thought that sense of belonging would travel with me wherever I went.

But life had its own plan.

As I stepped out of that cocoon for higher education, and later for work, I began to feel the slow tug of distance. The new places were exciting, yes—but they were also unfamiliar. Each move took me further away from that steady, known version of myself. Still, I adapted. I adjusted to new environments, learned new ways of living, and quietly reshaped the idea of "home."

Then came the biggest shift of all—marriage. For many women, including me, marriage meant not just a change in status, but a change in address, in people, in lifestyle, and sometimes even in identity. I moved into a new house, a new city, and into a family I hadn’t grown up with. And while I was welcomed with warmth, finding myself in that space was anything but easy.

At first, everything felt strange. The way people spoke, the rituals, the daily rhythm—it was all different. I couldn’t help but compare it to my native place. I found myself longing for the little things I had once taken for granted: the smell of home-cooked food from my mother’s kitchen, the sound of my father’s voice echoing through our hallway, the festivals celebrated with old neighbors, the shared memories with childhood friends.

In those early days, I kept telling myself that life is about adjustments. That compromises are a part of growing up. That love, understanding, and patience would build something new, something just as beautiful. And slowly, somewhere between romance and responsibility, work and family, joy and tears, I began to understand myself in a new way.

The truth is, everything changes—our jobs, the people around us, our priorities. And as everything shifts, we too are reshaped. I learned to accept change, even when it came without warning. I learned that comfort can be built, not just inherited. And I realized that home is not just a location—it’s a feeling. It’s something we carry within, wherever we go.

With time—and time really is the best teacher—I stopped searching for home in physical spaces. I started looking within. And that changed everything.

Now, when I look back, I don't see a single place where I "found myself." I see a journey. A journey that took me away from everything familiar only to bring me closer to who I really am.

Belonging, I’ve learned, isn’t about staying in one place. It’s about staying true to yourself, no matter where you are.

(This blog post is prepared  as an entry for the contest of Harper Collins's Harper broadcast)