Hello Nat’s blog. Please…let me speak. I know what you’re going to say, we haven’t seen each other for a while. That doesn’t mean I stopped carrying about you. Quite the opposite, actually, I thought about you every day since I have last seen you. And every day I was more and more annoyed with myself for letting our little relationship weaken. That’s why I’m here today. I want us back…You’re being awfully quiet. I know it’s not that simple, I know…But we’re good together, you know we are. Now that I’ve graduated and have the time we need, my darling, we can work it out. Trust me. I’ll speak and you’ll listen, just like we used to. Let’s give it a try, shall we?
Today’s post isn’t about Public Relations. But does it really have to be? Writing is an inseparable part of any communications-related job and it should be practiced by, both, those already in the industry and those like me, looking to enter it. This is what it is – a practice, but also a form of relaxation I guess. It’s nice to finally be able to write something less academic and more emotional. That’s why I could not have been happier, when my friend – a photography student, asked me to be a prat of her final year project. Participation involved writing – answering one question: ‘what is home?’.
So here it is – ‘What is home?’ – by Natalia Szczepanek + a pic of me of a similar tone to go with it, hah! 😉
What is home? I thought there was no easier task than finding the answer to this question. Oh, how wrong I was…I guess it’s easier to answer it when you’re a child. Then home is where you are from, where your family is. Home is where dinner is always served at 3pm. Home is this smell you can’t quite define, but love so much when it hits your nostrils as you walk in through the door. In a way, home is static. Always missed, always there, always the same and waiting with open arms. It’s nice to know that, gives you this warm fuzzy feeling inside. But as you grow older, as you change, the word ‘home’ evolves too. It’s strange, a little confusing when you first realise.
I’ve been living in the UK for three years now. This year was the first year I’ve started calling it my home, funny right? For a long time, I could not force myself to say it. It would just not go trough my throat. It was Poland that was my home, right? And then all of the sudden I didn’t have to force anything. Just like that. Not because I finally had a nice little flat I felt comfortable in. Not because I had a good, full-time job, or because I had finally completed my degree. But because I finally realised that during the journey to achieving all of those things I met people, who have become a family to me. And I have to them too. They became static – always there, always the same and waiting with open arms.
For a long time, I could not decide where my home was. Was it back in Poland, where my family was? Was it where I lived my life..? Home is where you feel loved, where you’re safe and comfortable. Where you feel like you belong. Now I guess am very lucky not be able to make my mind up – I have more than one home.