Home is chicken soup with family on a Friday night, cycling through rolling hills or by the Pacific Ocean, in Montreal surrounded by Québécois culture, on the back of a horse in the show ring, the cool air of the Arctic with the northern lights overhead, and cozy nights in with my closest girlfriends.

Home highlights the vibrance of my life and the diverse layers of my identity that I hold so close.

What I’m learning to embrace is that it’s the experiences and memories created in places that makes something home. And that my home is spread across so many different places which is both beautiful and painful all at the same time.

What excites me most about this, though, is that there are so many more versions of home I haven’t even met yet.