MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS: SOMETIMES, HOME IS WHERE THE HURT IS
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| Midnight Thoughts: Sometimes, Home Is Where the Hurt Is |
It’s surprising now that the definition of home has kept and continues to evolve. It became a weird concept. Some may define home as a place where it has roofs, room and doors and someone lives in it permanently, while others may also define it as a place where you can rest after a long day facing the world—a place where you meet your fragile self, where secrets are shared but, at the same time, buried. It is a place where the foundation of trust and such things is built.
It is a place where it is considered an integral part of the layers and foundation of childhood and youth. It is a place where the majority crave after being so stressed. It is somewhat peaceful and calmer but more controlled. It is a place where personal boundaries have been taken down—it is the room of the home that serves as personal space. The unit where the mask is unmasked.
It is defined by the majority as the comfort zone and a place where you meet your people. A place where you can be vulnerable, and no one else will judge you. A solemn place. A peaceful area. A surrounding where you can be you and only you. It is like a cellar that knows the hidden depth of your character—that knows the limit of your patience and when you snap. The scars and the triggers you don’t tell anyone about, but in this place called home, it is like your diary, and it traces the simplest things about you and knows the pain and the hurt that you hide. It is a place where you always meet your broken and lost soul. The place where you will always feel heard and understood amidst the confusion of the people around you. The place where you can rest and forget the world for a while.
However, as you grow older, you will learn that there are a lot of perceptions of home, and there are a lot of definitions of what it’s like and what it should be like for the majority. Some define it as an uncomfortable place where they meet the demons.
Some define it as a tragedy. While some also define their home as a chaotic place. Some of them escape and run, while some of them stay in the darkness and are caged and forced to endure the damage. In these stories that you hear, you will realize that home is not always the best place for secrets because sometimes it will be the one that will expose your classified documents and betray you at the end of the war.
Somewhat, you will learn that there are stories of home that you are still unaware of and perspectives you didn’t unfold. It’s therapeutic for some while it’s chaos for others. By hearing these different versions of home from the people you met in the room or the stories you uncovered on your own, you will eventually learn, as you dig deeper, why some of the minority run away from and escape home. You may not fathom the profound reason, but you will find out—that sometimes home is an abyss for those minorities who run. It is not a place of hope for them but a place of despair. It is not peaceful, where they can rest and escape the world for a while, but a place where they always feel threatened and must always be in defensive mode. And they must always be careful about the things they should do and what they say, for it could be used against them.
In these minorities, you will realize that home is not always calmer; hence, it is a place that makes some uncomfortable. It is no longer a place that provides a roof and food, but it has become a place where broken and shattered glass is found. It is a place where the minorities find the chaos and the roots of their triggers. It is a place where efforts are not appreciated; instead, comparison is always the subject, and struggles are always disregarded.
Someone may argue against those minorities who run and escape and throw opinions like the world is about them and question why they left home when they can endure, but for some who are fighting the battle, it is like a hope of light and an open door to a new home. It is a relief. It is as if baggage has been lifted. It is different from the usual experiences of many because those who could not relate the definition of their home is maybe an acceptable place where emotional struggles are shown and growth always matters. Where dreams can be the subject and happiness are shared while envy is nowhere to be found. It paints a picture of what the home should be like in the dictionary and in the books. However, on the other side of it, there are stories that are never shared—like home is a scary place for some, and for some kids, home is not a safe place.
Where ridicule is always the subject and pulling at each other’s weaknesses is someone’s happiness living in the home. There is always a loud noise in the corner of the place, and there’s no quiet room in the area. Where personal boundaries are considered petty and crying means a weakness. Where personal struggles are meant to keep because they are always seen as a small thing on the table. This is where you will learn that home is a haunted asylum for some and for those who carry it all too well.
In these perspectives, you will eventually understand why some don’t want to go home or avoid going home and choose to isolate themselves from others. You will learn that it is not just about the loud noises and disrespect but also the demons where whispers of justice are unheard. The rage. The bitterness. The madness. It is always in one frame of them, and sometimes the option is just to run and never go back home. Where hiding is the better option than staying in that little madhouse, where safety is unsecured. It is not a sheltered place anymore where it gives them a comfortable life; hence, it is a bombing shelter where any time there is a war for them.
You will grow up and learn that stories of home are not always the fantasy of a standard setting. And if, by chance, you are on the other side of the world of perspective—where home is just a decoration rather than a foundation—please know that you are not alone, and you matter.
I know you always think about survival and learn tricks and shortcuts on how to escape. You wished to go anywhere, just not home, and I hope that maybe this time you don’t have to think of it as an impossible option or merely a backup plan when everything starts to crumble. Instead, you can really begin to listen to those little whispers.
Maybe it’s the start of an escape.
Leave.
Hide.
Run.
Home may sometimes serve as a place of comfort, but sometimes, it is a place where you realize you are alone, and nobody cares. It is somewhat a place where you meet your true self—the broken and rejected. And you would not know until now that sometimes you actually avoided home not because you were alone, but because of the emotional being of the emotions poured into the place so-called home, and you didn’t want to face it.
You escape because you are hurt. You run because it’s too much. You hide because it is safer than confronting the pain. You will learn that staying silent is just better than being open and just letting people assume the worst of you. You will also realize that no one else hurts more than the stab of betrayal you experienced in your home. You will also learn how to live on your own without relying on anyone, and you will start to view that the world is just not all about colors but also a shade of black and white.
You will know that some homes are just a hoax, where happiness is staged and scripted, while you will also find out that sometimes home, for others, is where they realized they didn’t want the version of it. While you will also meet people whose home is as healthy as their minds, and you will also meet people who are wretched and wrecked from the inside. You will learn, by then, that home, for some, is where they were forced to shut their mouths, while on the other side of the perspective, it is where they were nursed and cared for.
Eventually, at the end of the day, home is still a strange concept, and you will come to the conclusion that perhaps some actually don’t want to go home because the place they thought was a safe space is actually where the hurt is. Over time, the definition of home no longer surrounds a certain place; hence, be it a place or not, if it’s something that makes someone comfortable and at peace, then it’s a home.
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