Where is home?
What is the most depressing part about traveling? Sitting on an 8 hours flight back "home". Everytime I had to go home I felt depressed, so much so that I started to ponder and asked myself these questions, "Why is it depressing to go home?", "Is it really my home?", and "Where then.. is my home?".
When we travel, we put ourselves in a completely new environment. It forces us to learn, adapt and grow. It is always exciting not to know where that street over there might lead us to and because of that, we've changed. The problem is that when we are back home, we can't help but notice that everything stays the same, it is like we never left and that bothers us. It bothered us that we know exactly where that street will lead us to.
In our minds, we are wired to be reminded that things are not suppose to change at home. Since we are young, every Christmas, we go back home and celebrate with the same people, follow the same tradition, and do the same thing every year. It is what we have come to expect from the word "home".
It is also a symbol of stagnant and inert.
No matter how long you have been away, the city will still look the same, the people will still talk about the same crap over and over again, and your life will still be waiting for you at home, ready to go on autopilot.
That is what Bangkok reminds me of and I don't like it. I don't learn anything new when I'm there. I don't meet interesting people when I'm there. I can't talk about random shit like space, astronomy and Isaac Asimov or share my fondness about design and indie music when I'm there. And that is where the depression was coming from, the realization that there is more to this world than "home". That is why I have to ask myself this: "Where is home?".
In my quest to find where I belong, I decided to travel around Europe for 3 months while living with as many locals as possible. I have experienced many ways of living, many kinds of passionate people, and many cultures that I can relate to. It is within this process of searching that made me become a traveler. I might not find my "home" anytime soon, but that does not matter. I believe I have the right to know which city fit my personality most and that is what I would gladly spend my whole life doing.
This is why we need to travel, in search for our home.. our real home. It is not the question of where you are born or where you parents live, but it is the question of where do you think you belong and traveling is the only way to discover your home. How would you know where you belong if you have never experience anything but what that had been shoved in your face by the society at home?
Have you ever traveled to a city and felt like you belong there more than your "home"? Feel free to share where you think you belong in the comments below.
Looking for more inspirational articles? Check out The Solo Traveler’s Inspiration section where we will discuss topics related to the nomadic and traveling lifestyle and shower-thoughts that will invoke wanderlust in all of us.
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