Home is Friday night sleepovers at my grandparents house. 

Home is picking the pale yellow and white honeysuckles on vines covering the neighbors wired fence. 

 Home is riding the teal bicycle on the rocky gravel road around the block to gather the neighborhood kids. 

Home is the one small bathroom everyone shouts to have turns in. 

Home is the water balloon fights on Easter at my grandparents. 

Home is the contagious laughter you can’t control when you and your cousin should be asleep.

Home is alps, the old store around the corner of my grandpa’s house that he would occasionally let me tag along and get cheap candy and lip balm, or scented hand sanitizer. 

Home was good, life was good. 

***

Home is the aroma of barbecue sizzling in the backyard. 

Home is going to your friend’s birthday party at the waterpark and realizing that you long for other girls’ bodies. 

Home is being panicked in the bathroom because blood just ran down your leg. 

Home is the rainy days spent inside playing board games with your family. 

Home is the sizzling iron running over your hair over and over to look like the other girls your age. 

Home is the beautiful curls that once formed in your hair after showering.

Home is the family gatherings at your grandparents to decorate the christmas tree.

Home is looking in the long body mirror without satisfaction of a flat stomach.

Home is a Wednesday night bus ride to church with your closest friends.

Home is feeling nauseous and skipping the next meal.

Home is your parents’ big t-shirts that would drape over your ankles you would wear when you had a movie night in the living room. 

Home is being excited for the cold weather and more covering clothes. 

Home is a fake smile. 

***

Home is everyone joining more activities in high school. 

Home is the abandoned fire pit that now has trees growing from it in the backyard. 

Home is the little girl you were best friends with in 6th grade and would always write songs for her parents to hear.

Home is at home workouts to not feel guilty when eating.

Home is the empty dinner table whilst everyone is now busy. 

Home is parents trying to start more conversations.

Home is staying inside on your phone when it snows outside instead of making snow angels. 

Home is being nauseous while doing Sunday chores and doing laundry.

Home is arguing with parents because you spend too much time with friends.

Home is no longer feeling confident enough to wear a tank top to dance. 

Home is no longer wanting to be home. 

***

Home is the new friend you met in your 10th grade art class.

Home is once you’re alone feeling sick to your stomach, unhappy with the way you look compared to all your friends.

Home is wanting to be alone and in your bed constantly.

Home is that kind friend giving you rides to school so you don’t have to worry about the bus. 

Home is the negative thoughts that surround your mind but when you’re with that friend, none of those problems exist. 

Home is being alone and getting that constant feeling of you aren’t good enough.

Home is standing up and immediately feeling dizzy.

Home is exhausting. 

***

Home is that friend you become best friends with and start to hang around more.

Home is those daily gym trips with your best friend.

Home is that friend who is slowly building up your mindset and only surrounds you with positive energy. 

Home is wanting to be a better person.

Home is connecting with your family again.

Home is no longer the untouched plate at my seat at the dinner table.

Home is no longer being drowned in your own thoughts all the time.

Home is no longer those waves of sadness that overtake you for months at a time.

Home is going home and feeling less nauseous and disgusted when you now look in the mirror.

Home is starting to feel accomplished.

Home is the girl who saved me when she didn’t know I needed to be saved.