I know, I missed Friday's post and honestly I have no excuse.
Tradition would tell you that building home means to get a house in the suburbs with a spouse and a couple of children. That spouse should be of the ‘opposite’ gender and if male, provide for the family.
Tradition can get fucked.
Sometimes my home is just me. Sat in front of a laptop with a cup of tea and the world at my fingertips.
Sometimes my home is actually my parents’ home. Filled with love and care and endlessly infuriating discussions about my lack of a boyfriend.
Sometimes my home is my other friends’ homes, where its warm and there’s laughter and drinks and good memories.
Don’t let tradition tell you how to build your home. It can be you and your 10 cats and 4 dogs (maybe even a hamster or two). It can be you, your best friend, her partner and their goldfish.
Home can be you, your boyfriend, your girlfriend and your genderfluid child.
‘Home is where the heart is’ might be a terrible cliché at this point but it’s a cliché for a reason.
Home is wherever you feel loved, wherever you give your love to whomever you please. It doesn’t have be that ‘perfect’ vision of a romantic love. Platonic love is just as valuable, just as rewarding.
Maybe your home is small. Maybe it is large. Your home is whatever you make it so don’t limit yourself to what tradition tells you.
Tales written from a prompt in just 10 minutes.
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