A place called home?

Happy new year to everyone!Hope you had great Christmas, ate tons and that you enjoyed your time!

 It's been a while now since last time I posted something here, and it's been a while too that I wanted to talk about the concept "home". And I consider this is the perfect timing since I came back to Stirling a few days ago from the place where I was born and raised.
Considering this and that my closest relatives live there, I should consider my hometown my "home"... but not really.

This thinking has been going on since the beginning of last semester, when someone asked me if I had played waterpolo "back home". And I thought... "Back home? What's 'back home' "? Is it Talavera? Is it Madrid? Is it Reykjavík? I couldn't really answer where my home is. I played waterpolo in every place I've lived (not in a team in Madrid, but I've played there, almost the same) but what do you mean "back home"?

Talavera de la Reina

They say home is where the heart is. They say home is where the wifi connects automatically. They even say, and I can relate, that home is where the swimming pool is. So if we take all these statements into consideration, every city where I've lived could be considered "home". But yet, I don't.

I was born and I grew up in Talavera, my parents, family and the house where I lived most of my life is there, and I love going for holidays, but I still can't see myself living there.

It was hard to pick only one picture, and I'm not sure it's the best

I studied and lived in Madrid for 4 years, and if you know me a bit, you'll know that I love Madrid. Like crazy. Madrid is kind of the love of my life. Yes, I know it's not perfect, it's not flawless... but even with those mistakes, I adore it. I can never really put into words what Madrid means to me... but I don't even know my way in the metro anymore. I go there one day or two a year, to meet old friends and not much more. It's turned into an acquaintance rather than a best friend now. I can't feel like it's my home. I don't feel like an inhabitant but like a visitor. And that saddens me.

Reykjavík gave me great moments, great people and unforgettable things. But, let's be honest, I'm not done for Iceland. Living there 3 years was ok, no need to extend it. Good for those who are happy there, but I just wasn't... and I'm realising now, when I'm in Stirling.

I can't call Stirling my home either. Temporarily, yes, I'm living here, and I have friends here,  but it's like a fictional home. It feels good when you are getting here from any other city, and you see the Wallace Monument in the distance, it feels relaxed, it feels comforting. But it won't be my permanent home. Although I really like Scotland, and I wouldn't mind to live here for some years, but I can't completely perceive it as a home.




I guess that what I mean is that after living in so many places, I learnt to grow up as a person, yes. And I did. I grew up, I built my character, changes made me strong. But I can't feel "at home" anywhere! The perks of being a nomad. It makes me feel a bit insecure, and somehow anxious.
 There's no place where I know I'll go back to a place that is waiting for me or that I'll be happy and satisfied.

And I'm still trying to manage to move to Australia. One more place to add to the list. Will it be the last one, will I be able to make it my home? And if not, what after that? At this point, I am not sure if I will be moved by a place in a sense that will make me feel it's my home. Will I notice? How will I know it's the place I want to stay? I don't know anymore!


Well, this time I haven't written anything very cheerful, but one can't be smiles and jokes 24/7! I need to take a couple of hours a week off my cheerfulness :p