The romantic version will tell you “home is where the heart is”.
It is common for emigrants to say they are going back home when they visit the country where they were born. But is that really their home? Well, I can only speak for myself here.
The truth is, I am not entirely sure where home is anymore.
After almost 10 years living in a different country it would be bad if it didn’t feel like home at all.
London does feels like home. It is the home I chose because Portugal could not offer me what I needed at the time.
When I go back to Portugal I feel comfortable. It is a familiar place with familiar faces. I usually get back to the house where I used to live in. It feels nostalgic. I see family and friends, eat good food and breathe in fresh air.
But after a few days I do miss London. I guess I miss home.
Yes, after a while I will go back to missing the Portuguese blue sky, the Sun on my skin and the sand on my feet. But who wouldn’t?
Thinking further on the “home” concept I guess that home is where you are happy to be when you feel vulnerable.
I was given the choice between London and Portugal to go through a rough time (health wise) and I chose London.
Looks like London is my “home”. At least for now.