My safe place

To me home isn’t just a place with walls and a roof, Home is a place of memories. The place where you took your first steps, where you said your first words. Memories when you had your last piggieback ride, or the last time of you getting picked up. Home can be filled with good and bad memories, the good memories are to be remembered and the bad ones are forgotten. Home is a place of love, laughter, help, and kindness. Home is a safe place, a place to run back to when you need to cry when life gets too hard. Home is a place to go when you need your pillow to catch your tears. Home is a place to break down into pieces and then pick yourself up again. Life is almost like a chapter book. Each chapter is different, from when you're a baby to when you're a teen to an adult. Sometimes home can be people. My home is Arabella and Leila. When there is something bothering me, they know, they can tell, they care. They can make me feel better by one hug. There was something about them when I first met them that told me “we will be friends.” Home are hopes and dreams. It's important to have dreams because without it you wouldn’t work as hard to achieve them. Home is a place to be myself. I’m not the girl who wears those stylish clothes all the time, who tries to have perfect hair. Who tries too hard to fit in. I want to be the girl who wears baggy tops and jeans with my crazy natural hair. Home is my safe place.