Have you ever visited a place and thought, I can see myself living here! There are very few places outside of New York that I feel that way about, and all of them are on the East Coast. I’ve visited Cali twice before and did not experience that feeling of home, but there’s something about Long Beach that resonates with me.

I’m not a beach person – I think sand is nature’s glitter. The houses are too close together, I love the space I have right now, and nothing is within my price range anyway, but for some reason, Long Beach felt like home. Maybe it was the trees or the way everything seemed within reach. Maybe it was the fact that I was spending time with friends I haven’t seen in a while…

The idea in my head of home has evolved throughout the decades. Home was always my parents when I was younger. In my 20s it became my ideal of what I thought family was – a husband and children. In my 30s I finally accepted the fact that I didn’t really want to bare children which wrecked me a tiny bit. Now I find that home is my dad and sister, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my friends… home is the place I feel loved.

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