Dwelling terms of use.

You wake up surrounded by 4 walls, a roof, laying in a bed.

Is this what makes a Home?

You wake up Surrounded by nylon fabric, zippers, Outdoors and the cold ground.

Is this what others make home?

You wake up surrounded by 4 windows, Locked doors, and a steering wheel.

Is this a Home you are forced into?

Comfort, Warm embraces, Snuggled up with love and care. Food on the table, clothes to wear. This is what home should be right?

Smiling faces everyday at school, laughter and kids filled with so much joy coming from their home made me agonize to know what home was really meant to be like.

Is it not the bruises I see in the mirror? Is it not crying myself to sleep every night wishing I was never born? Begging god that my parents wouldn’t stay together anymore.

“For the sake of kids” I would hear as if they were doing us a favor not realizing they are only creating what felt like a hell instead of a home for my brother and I. I grew up never knowing what home was supposed to be, dwelling terms I never understood.

How do I know if I never learned? Home is a word I don’t know how to describe to people, This word that has been non exist to me. A world of unknown magic and mystery I use to write about. With untold riches of love, An abundance of care and respect, a place I was listened to and encouraged to be all I can be.

Is home your boyfriend's arms where you can feel safe for the first time in your life?. When you create memories with people outside of the 4 walls of hell? Where does your soul feel like it can relax and unwind for a few hours of the day?. The ocean, I would think that was home for the longest time. Wiggling my toes in the sand, feeling the ocean breeze. The crashing of the ocean waves taking my fear and worries out to sea with them, retreating alike, same nonsense I do from anything real, anything that could mean I deserved more than pain and bruising.

The day the digital world I held in my hands read “Pregnant” All those memories of what was thought to be home were gone, replaced with a single heartbeat that has his own safe haven living inside me for the next 5 months. Home was never in a person's arms, it was never a roof over my head, it was never a feeling of security by the ocean.

Home is motherhood, finally able to step through the doors of my first house. The surrounding of love and care I can give to my little boy, The Snuggles I would dream up. Safety I would beg god for, The encouragement I can nourish my child with. Being the mom I always dreamed of having, Giving my child all I can, the home I was always agonizing for, being prepared to be able to deliver as labor is induced and a new creation of life is birthed.

To my unborn baby boy, I owe you everything. Without you I would never know what home really meant, I would never know why god chose to keep me alive any longer then I begged for it to end.

Because of you, I am truly home, Home is motherhood. The creation of life inside life of itself.

-Marissa Knappert