Why He Will Never Be Your Home

The biggest mistake we make is that we build our homes in other people….when you build your home in other people, you give them the power to make you homeless. — Najwa Zebian

He was getting ready to leave for a meeting. Tears welled up in my eyes as I said to him, “You know, you had truly felt like home.”

With a look of confusion and concern, he responded, “I am your home. We are each other’s home. What’s going on, are you okay?”

I couldn’t say anything more or else I’d break down. He kissed me and told me he’d be back soon.

Little did he know that would be the last time we’d see each other again.

Nobody had ever felt like home in the way that he had. I had never said those words to anybody before. And let me tell you, I’ve had some beautiful partners in my life.

Exactly one year ago, I left a country that felt like home. I moved back to the state where I grew up, which never felt like home. And I made somebody else my home. A person who had been betraying me every single day for more than 6 months.

When I made him my home, life kneeled down in front of me, gently grabbed me by the shoulders, and told me that I had it all wrong…and gracefully, and painfully, led me to the most important lesson I’ve needed to learn…

When I was a child, my family moved around a lot. And for a shy child, that really sucked. I never felt like I belonged anywhere and home was always changing. There was a lot of instability in my life, which I subconsciously stored and buried as shame.

As an adult, I moved around even more.

The pandemic nudged me further into where’s-my-home limbo. After another life chapter ended, I was back in the city in a tiny apartment I didn’t want to be in. I wanted to be back in the mountains. The mountains felt like home.

Being cooped up in the epicenter of a pandemic left me restless, and I returned to my family’s home for some respite for a few months.

And then I met him. And I lived in his home in a place that didn’t feel like home. So I made him my home.

And I abandoned myself.

Betrayal throws you into the deepest, murkiest, stinkiest depths of unworthiness. It feels like someone has ripped out your heart and shit all over it. Hence, the stink.

And somewhere in the throes of this heartbreak of mine, I realized something…his betrayal mirrored back to me how I’d been betraying myself for a long time…

By not accepting all parts of myself.

By being on this never-ending quest of where do I belong, where’s home?

By abandoning myself.

I belong to myself. That is home.

You belong to yourself. That is home.

That saying “home is where the heart is” couldn’t be more true, except most of us have the wrong idea about what those words mean.

Even biology shows us that’s the truth. Your physical heart is in your own body, isn’t it?

Our body is the home for our soul, the womb of all love and acceptance. Here and only here is where you can be the safest and most loved. Yet, so many of us are looking for this love, safety, acceptance, and belonging in the external world.

Our external world is a reflection of our internal world.

Be sure your home has a strong foundation, perhaps with some marble pillars, is warm and welcoming with lots of soft pillows and blankets, candles, and beautiful music.

Be highly selective about who you invite into your home, letting only those who treat you with mutual love, respect, and compassion inside.

Invite them in for tea, dinner parties, dance parties, and sleepovers. Invite them in for cuddles and Netflix. Take pride in sharing the warmth of your divine home.

But don’t ever make any of them your home, sweet darling.

People come and people go. You may move 47 times, changing houses, cities, and countries…

But as long as you belong to yourself, you’ll always be home.