I grew up in the perfect home with my extended family. At any moment, I could walk into the kitchen and smell the food my aunts were cooking. Or, I could hear the crowd roar coming out of the TV as my uncles watched soccer and drank beer. More importantly, I had my own playmates living with me. I ran around the house playing tag with my sister and five cousins. I created such a strong bond with all of them. My cousins were like my siblings.

I grew up and went to school in Sun Valley with my cousins, where I created amazing relationships. However, I knew it was not an ideal living situation for my mom, who wanted something better. I had known that my parents started looking for houses, but I never admitted it because it would feel like I was losing my home. I would hate seeing new houses with my parents because I knew it could never be a real home to me – it wasn’t Sun Valley.

The dreaded day finally came when my parents told me about the new house and how we were on our way to see it. I felt pain and disbelief. Yet, I stayed quiet and made my way into the car. As soon as I got out of that car, I wanted to get back in and drive off. "The house is hideous" is all I thought – so old, on high ground. There were two big palm trees that didn’t complement the house at all. I shrugged it off and went inside the house, only to find it worse than outside. The house was filled with graffiti on the walls and doors, and there were leftover food boxes and cans everywhere. Eventually, I reached the backyard and there was a huge basketball court I loved, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

After eventually settling in, I was told that two of my cousins, my aunt, and my uncle that I lived with back at home would be moving in. I was beyond happy and couldn’t wait to have a piece from home with me. They eventually moved in and I was so happy, because of them, the house seemed more lively for three years.

However, after three years, the relationship between my mom and aunt deteriorated. My mom and aunt were constantly arguing. My aunt picked me up from school one day; she looked at me seriously. She said she couldn’t stay at our house much longer. She was moving back to Sun Valley. The only piece that stayed with me from home was breaking apart, yet I was expecting news like this because I knew her and my mom's arguments weren't small and I had prepared myself for this moment.

They officially moved out about two weeks later, but throughout that process, I realized that although I loved my old house and everyone in it, Sun Valley wasn’t my home anymore. I’ve had to learn that family will forever be a part of what makes me feel at home but relying on people to make a house feel like a home was only hurting me. People come and go, and in the end, you can only rely on yourself.

I am 14 years old and have lived with my mom, dad, sister, and a new set of family members for over three years – two cousins and an aunt – all of whom I cherish. After much denial and realization, I finally found out what home is – myself. Home is a type of comfort and safety. A level of comfort and safety that only I would be able to give myself as soon as I moved on from the thought of having a place instead of myself as a home.

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