Now That I Am A Mother, Why Does Home Feel So Different?

What is that one image, that crops up when you hear the word ‘home’?

Is it the place you are staying in right now?

Or is it the face of your closest family member? Or is it some distant childhood memory?

Home meant peace. Home meant surrendering. Home meant safety.

It has been ten years since I got married and left my home. I have moved to different cities and changed homes. Stayed in fancy societies, made friends, and shifted from one home to the other, but that feeling of ‘home’ remains forever elusive.

Now being a parent and a wife, I am the primary caregiver in the family. I try to create a ‘haven’ for my child, exuding the same comfort and security that I received in my childhood. But when it comes to me, the feeling of ‘home’ still eludes me.

The constant hustle of planning, managing, executing, and catering has taken a toll on me. I realize I have to stand tall and strong, and keep delivering no matter what the situation is. My vulnerabilities affect my child. My tears shake his confidence. So on days, when the night is darkest and days are gloomy – I bring out my brightest smile and strongest spirit and keep going. I know that’s what works for my child. That’s what gives him safety and confidence.

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And in doing so I have realized home does not mean any particular house made of bricks and cement. Nor is a plush bungalow or a lavish apartment. Home is the love of your family and the confidence of your parents. It is the simple, comfort food churned out from the kitchen, the occasional confrontations and the hearty peals of laughter. Home is the face of strength amidst vulnerabilities. And in the process of ‘creating’ a ‘home’ for my child, the child in me has lost its home, forever.

Image Source: Canva Pro

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