My entire life, I’ve longed for somewhere that isn’t home. Is home the city in Utah where I was born? Is home the SoCal town I grew up in? Or is it my college town, Berkeley, with its buzzing energy and endless possibilities? No matter where I am, I always feel restless and ready to see a new place. I spend my free time searching for flights, pretending to book hotels, and making itineraries for my next location. The search for home seems endless.Â
There’s a hopeless contradiction in feeling like an outsider, even in familiar places. I know my favorite places to eat in Riverside, I can navigate Berkeley’s chaotic streets, and I’ve built routines that should make me feel grounded. But, something about it still feels temporary. No matter how familiar a place becomes, part of me is always looking beyond it. The unknown brings me adrenaline, a rush of possibility. Permanence makes me uncomfortable. Discovery could bring me anywhere.Â
While others crave stability, I crave movement. I’ve been lucky to travel to many countries with my family, experiencing different cultures and different ways of life. Each trip reminds me that the world is vast, interconnected, and constantly changing. Travel gives me a fresh perspective and a chance to reinvent myself. I love Berkeley, but I know this chapter is temporary, and the thought of staying in one place forever feels suffocating. Curiosity fuels me to change, to embrace the unknown.Â
It feels strange being happy yet still wanting more. I cherish the places I’ve lived and the memories I’ve made. Nothing seems to compare to the feeling of arriving somewhere completely new. There’s a certain glow: a traveler’s glow. The glow of stepping into a city I’ve never walked in before, hearing a language I don’t fully understand, getting lost in the streets that weren’t built for me, and seeing a place just waiting for me to discover it. In those moments, I feel important; I feel alive. And maybe, one day, that feeling won’t just belong to the journey.
For so long, I’ve fought this feeling, thinking that at some point, life must settle down. What if home is the ability to embrace change and find comfort in uncertainty? Maybe restlessness isn’t something to fix. Maybe restlessness is part of who I am. And hopefully, I never have to choose one place to call home. Home can be anywhere, as long as I keep moving.