I was talking with Insa the other day about the idea of a place being home. We both moved around a bit while growing up. We’ve both lived in different places around our respective countries and both have places that feel more “home” than others. Berlin is home for me. I started to feel this a few months ago, and I’ve thought about it off and on since. I always thought it was strange around Christmas time when people asked if I was flying back “home” for the holidays. It occurred to me that in their minds, home is where you’re from, or at least where you were last. South Carolina was never home for me. My family is still there, but that doesn’t make the place home. I realized that Berlin is the first home that I picked. Everywhere else was a choice that was made for me, either because I was a kid, or didn’t have the means to pick somewhere else. This is the first place I said “I want to live there” and actually went.