I flew back for the holidays to my hometown in Nebraska. When I'm on the plane ride home, various memories run through my head as I am excited to visit home. I think about the things I need to get done while I am home. I'm excited to see my friends and most importantly, my family.

My hometown is quiet. There's enough to do. There are stores, parks, movie theaters. Just enough. There are subtle things I do miss about my hometown. It's the place that saw me grow up. A place where I am familiar with.

Something happens as I enter my childhood home. I spent most of my childhood in this house. When I step into the home, so many many memories flood my mind. It's like I unzipped a .zip file and the entire folder just spills. Every step I take and every time I turn my head, flashbacks come to me as well.

There are so many moments that make me feel happy. I remember it was here I got my first computer. It's where I learned to ride a bike. I remember helping my mom study for the U.S Citizenship Test everyday afterschool. I remember numerous times packing and unpacking for/from Mexico. I remember the moment I learned I was accepted into university.

My bedroom was a place of safety. A place where I could be myself. The place where I learned. I took apart my first computer. A place I recorded my first audio note. A place to allow my emotions to run free.

We didn't live in the best house but it was our house. We had a roof over our heads.

I reflect back on all this and it brings a smile of joy. So much has happened. So many things happening in the background I didn't know were happening.

I'm here now rearranging my room. I feel happy that I can still make it my own and still have a place of safety.