For me, home used to be a two-story grey house with a bright yellow door, nestled into a tree-lined street. From the street, you could see my childhood basketball hoop in the backyard, the neighbor’s orange tree that hung over our side of the fence, and occasionally my dog Archie peeking his head out the window. Pieces of myself are etched into the walls, woven into the carpet, and baked into the furniture. My earliest memories and deepest connections were formed in a bright yellow bedroom, which I shared with my sisters, and the kitchen, where I learned to caramelize onions and discovered my love for cooking. Finally, the bed that I spent countless nights awake, curled up with a good book or ruminating about a test that I failed holds a certain nostalgia. For 18 and a half years, this was unquestionably my home.
Reflecting on my first year at UCSB, I find myself pleasantly surprised by the sense of belonging. I have always been a homebody. My perfect nights were spent watching sports or horror films on TV with my family. Coming to college, I was prepared for homesickness to be at the forefront of my mind, but I was pleasantly surprised to find myself comfortable in this new routine.
Constantly in motion, whether it was classes, socializing, or getting involved in extracurricular activities, I found it hard to spend time longing for the place I left behind. While I had to adjust to the sounds of people running in the hallway past midnight and the tap water that tasted different than the one back home, I have grown accustomed to a new normal.
I didn’t realize that “home” was no longer exclusive to the grey house with the bright yellow door until I visited for Thanksgiving. My drawers, once overflowing with pants, shirts, and sweaters were now bare, with traces of clothes I decided didn’t fit my college aesthetic. My space in the shared bathroom was now filled with my sister, and the shower no longer held the products I used daily. These small, insignificant details made me realize I would never live here again, as I did only three months ago. With a suitcase I didn’t bother to unpack, I became acutely aware that I was a guest in my own room. While the rush of nostalgia and familiarity always welcomes me when I go back, I found it’s the people that create a sense of home rather than the place itself.
I look forward to summer with a mix of unease and excitement. Originally, the thought of college filled me with unwavering nerves, but also a hope to become a newer version of myself. The whirlwind of complex emotions that is the freshman year experience changed me in ways I didn’t expect. I became more comfortable with being alone. UCSB is huge. I often don’t see anyone I know on my walks to class or to Isla Vista. I’m sure in a few years that will likely change, but there is something peaceful in the fact that everyone is on their own path, chasing whatever goal they are working towards.
When I return “home,” I might run into a classmate from my middle school COVID era or a friend from high school I no longer keep in touch with, both of which know a version of myself that no longer represents who I am after spending a year at UCSB. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable, just a realization that I have grown so much in a short amount of time. Despite being from the Bay Area, a place so diverse and rich with experiences, I can’t help but feel it has shrunk. Moving to a new place, while still in California, has made me realize the world of possibilities outside the bubble of Silicon Valley.
UCSB has an abundance of extracurricular activities to get involved in and daily activities happening in the local community. Whether it’s karaoke on a Tuesday night at Woodstock’s, going for a sunset dip after midterms, or sitting at the baseline during a basketball game in the Thunderdome, it’s impossible to be bored. Returning for the summer, I have to readjust to a different routine and ways to keep busy.
I have come to terms with the fact that home can be in multiple places with various people. For me, it’s less about the physical space and more about the community and family I have formed. I look forward to summer, when I will be home for longer than a few days at a time. I will bring back my necessities, leaving my room decorations in a storage unit in Santa Barbara. At home, I find myself longing to go back to UCSB and vice versa, not fully belonging to either place. I am excited to be surrounded by my family, but I will be leaving a piece of myself at UCSB. A place I never thought could come close to the importance of my two-story grey house with a bright yellow door.