It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? After five years of living in a new country, you start to feel like a true local. You know your way around without a map, you have your favorite coffee spot, and you’ve learned to navigate the nuances of a new culture. This place, with its new rhythms and landscapes, becomes your life. It becomes your home.

But then, you catch the scent of a fresh rain on pavement, a certain kind of grey sky rolls in, or you hear a familiar accent, and a memory you didn’t even know you were holding surfaces. A vivid, sensory flashback to a life lived years ago, in a place that still has a piece of your heart. It’s a moment of beautiful, bittersweet clarity that reminds you of where you came from.

After five years, you learn that home isn’t a single place on a map. It’s a feeling. It’s the place you’ve built a life, and it’s also the place that shaped who you are. It’s the comfort of your new surroundings, and it’s the warm nostalgia for an old, familiar comfort. You learn that it’s possible for your heart to belong in two places at once.

For anyone who’s ever moved far away from their roots, you know this feeling. It’s a reminder of a rich past and a gratitude for a vibrant present.