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Walking through Mexico City today, I felt something unexpected.

For the first time, I felt at home.

Earlier I wrote that Cabo felt like home—but that was more about the house, our little nest where my things live and my favorite tea cup waits for me. Today was different. For the first time, it wasn’t just the apartment—it was Mexico itself that felt like home.

Every move I’ve ever made came with a heavy dose of sadness. I always missed my “familiar” place. I felt the distance like a weight, as if something had been taken from me—something that was part of me, something that had always been mine.

When I lived in Spain, it wasn’t as strong—my sister and my cat were with me, which gave me some sense of home, even if it wasn’t really my home, my usual one.

But now, here I am on the other side of the ocean, living through a very important stage of my life. And as with any transformation, it’s been heavy, sometimes painful. I felt like a stranger here. I cried for home. I thought I was going crazy.

And yet today, all of that felt behind me. Those struggles don’t hold the same weight anymore. And here, thousands of kilometers away from “home,” I suddenly feel like I belong.

I realized that “home” has stretched itself for me—it now lives in three places: Ukraine, Spain, and Mexico.ʼ

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Comments

🖤💯🔥 That’s exactly what came to my mind ⚡️🤩👏

Matthew Martin

Home is where the heart is, beautiful girl)

Sendrock


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