Home isn’t a place — it’s a feeling

I will never forget my childhood home or the exact route it took to get there. I remember the left turn into my neighborhood and how I always had to slow down so I wouldn’t scare off our neighborhood cat, Luna. I haven’t made that left turn or seen Luna in years. I used to think home had to be a place. The four walls that defined my youth, my usual coffee order at the local shop and the sandwich place that knew what I wanted the moment I walked in. I had the same friends since I was 8, and I believed home was something fixed and permanent. But I’ve come to learn that home is something more. Home isn’t a place — it’s a feeling.

When people ask how I ended up at Virginia Tech, I never have the perfect answer. The truth is, I came on a whim. I’m from a small coastal town where I knew everyone in my graduating class and could tell you who their cousins were or what car they drove. That town was all I’d ever known. At first, I wasn’t afraid to move across the country to a school I had never visited and where I knew no one. But that changed during my first week. I found myself calling my parents every day, scared I had made the wrong choice. I felt lost, and all I wanted was the comfort of home.

Before I arrived in Blacksburg, I knew I wanted to join the club water polo team. Water polo has always been a big part of my life, and I was determined to keep playing. At the club sports fair, I noticed a name on the sign-up sheet. It took me a moment, but I realized it belonged to a girl I had played against in high school. I reached out, and we went to tryouts together. Today, we’re both senior captains of the team. Being part of that team gave me something I didn’t even realize I was missing — a sense of belonging. After a long day, jumping in the pool with girls I now call family brings me peace. Hokie Polo gave me that familiar feeling of home, even though I was hundreds of thousands of miles away from the one I grew up in.

Joining a sorority was never part of my plan. My family couldn’t have told you what a sorority even was. But a friend encouraged me to go through formal recruitment. It was an overwhelming week, but I kept noticing the same girl on the bus, in line and during quiet moments. We shared a smile every time, but it wasn’t until I dropped my water bottle during a silent period on the bus causing it to spill everywhere that we shared our first real laugh. We got dinner that night and later ended up in Alpha Chi Omega together. Along with three other girls we met, we navigated the awkwardness of joining something so new. Slowly, they became my people. They became my home — not a place, but a feeling of comfort and connection.

Now, when I return to my small town, I find myself missing the Duck Pond, the sunsets over the Blue Ridge Mountains, my breakfast sandwich from Coffeeholics, and the mac and cheese from West End. The relationships and routines I’ve built at Virginia Tech have created a new kind of home — one filled with people who understand me, places that ground me, and moments that make me feel whole. I used to think I left home behind when I moved away. But now I know: Home isn’t a place. It’s a feeling.