Moving is an interesting concept. I’ve moved several times throughout my life: from country to country, state to state, and city to city. With each instance, there is a sense of unmooring and uncertainty. Your stuff goes in boxes, you show up in a new space with white walls, and you have to start building all over again. When you spend too much time moving, you learn not to place your permanence and sense of belonging to any one place or thing.

Do you become better at adapting to the new? Oftentimes, yes, but that doesn’t diminish any anxiety that may come from it. But moving forces you to look past the boxes and uncertainty to where belonging actually begins: within you.

Much like life, moving teaches you that home isn’t a fixed place

Home means so much to so many. It means ownership, symbolizes stability, and gives you a sense of “I’m from here.” It helps you trace back your roots, blessing you with a sense of origin that not much else can. Unfortunately, for many immigrants, children of immigrants, or people who have had to move around to survive, this isn’t always the case.

​I always make a weird face whenever I get asked, “So, you’re from Miami?” My typical answer is yes and no. Was I born here? No. Have I spent the better part of my life here? Yes. As an immigrant who came to the United States at the age of 3, there isn’t much I can tell you about the Dominican Republic my parents and I left behind.

​I can only talk to you about what I’ve seen and heard from family and visits since then. I spent my formative childhood years living in Washington Heights, Dominican Central in New York, yet I can’t navigate Manhattan even if I wanted to. But does Miami feel like home? Not necessarily, because to me, home is where my parents and brother are.

​When you grow up learning to split your heart among different places, you learn that you need to anchor yourself to something else. For many immigrants, it’s much the same. You go back to your country of origin, but that no longer feels like home. But then you also don’t fully fit where you are now. The best way to mitigate this self-inflicted purgatory is rebuild your internal navigation system.

Learning to leave what you once considered your anchor teaches you the strength of rebuilding

Moving teaches you many things, among them is that you learn to read spaces quickly. Your instinct is to become adaptable, careful, observant, and fully attuned. You look for cues about the dos and don’ts of wherever you are. I remember the transition period in Miami vividly. I was hyperaware of everything and everyone.

​I wanted to learn, listen, and capture things as quickly as possible so I wouldn’t be the odd one out. I wanted to belong. Another thing you become good at is leaving. You come to understand that no space is permanent, and that a certain level of detachment is used to protect yourself emotionally and physically. But adaptation and detachment do not lead you down the glorious path to belonging; rather, they very much keep you from it.

Fortunately, thanks to time and therapy, I’m able to see moving for what it was: a blessing. Moving taught me that I can indeed survive hard things like a breakup, a loss, a major life shift, and even the lingering fear of never truly belonging. I know that if I can rebuild in so many different places, I can rebuild in twice as many ways.

​For me, home is where my heart is, whether that’s with my family, friends, or if I’m by myself reading a book. Geography is no longer tied to my sense of belonging; my trust and the parts of me that have remained are.

You don’t need coordinates to help you feel like you belong

So many of us experience things that leave us feeling unstable and unmoored. Whether you’re an immigrant, a divorcee, changing careers, or even trying to become a better version of yourself, your value and belonging are not tied to a zip code. It never will be.

​You belong around the people and in the spaces where you feel safe. The ones that allow you to be soft, and you feel that your body is losing its tension. Your sense of belonging is tied to the parts of you that are firmly anchored, regardless of where you are or the season of your life. Home is the internal continuity that is powered by grace, love, compassion, and kindness.

Despite my geography changing, my heart and soul haven’t, and no change in zip code will ever take that from me.