Oh I do love being at home. I would now consider myself a fully fledged Cardiffian (I’m at uni there, my boyfriend lives there and I guess that’s where my life is now) BUT I’m still struggling to let go of calling West Wales ‘home’ & I guess I don’t have to. Whenever I come back to Aberaeron I feel completely content and relaxed in my surroundings. I don’t over think anything, stress about anything or feel like I should be doing things constantly. My brain just chills out.
Now that the weather is getting a bit nicer too, when I come back we (we = me & my family) spend time sitting on the harbour wall, watching the tide come in and going for a late night swim in the sea. We sit in the garden drinking tea all afternoon and go out for lunch and sit in the beer gardens eating honey ice cream. It’s just pure bliss. Also, the sunsets here are out of this world!
I really do love Cardiff, I’m not denying that, & being there does make me really happy! But there is just something so wonderful about coming ‘home home’ as I call it.
Being 20 is a strange age, we’re kind of half way between being fully fledged, rent paying, grocery shopping adults and being stroppy teenagers who need our washing picked up from where we dropped it and a roast made for us on a Sunday. I guess we need to embrace it, your 20’s are of course the best years of your life…but it’s also such a confusing time. If you’re a uni student or have moved away from home, you also have the ‘home home’ thing going on & if you’re anything like me, are stuck between wondering where ‘home’ really is.
This really has been a rambling post that hasn’t gone anywhere but it’s just something I wanted to talk about. I probably seem so ungrateful, moaning about where I call home when I’m lucky to have a home but, ah, those first world problems! Does anyone else feel like this or am I just making a mountain out of a mole hill?
Eliza Days xo