There’s a reason why the widely known cliche “There’s no place like home” line was embedded into a movie about rainbows and a place called Emerald City. Home, for many of us, changes from place to place. It’s not always the same Kansas farm that gives us comfort. Home, ideally, is the place or sometimes person that brings an overall state of relief without trying. By simply existing, this place or person is home. Walls/arms embrace us for who we are – faults and quirks, tempers and spitfires – and we sink into this embrace when we most need.
Write a letter about when you came home after trauma. How long did it take you? Where or who was home? What did you find? Are you still looking for home?
Remember, don’t explain. Write.