A little while ago I was asked to write something about 'home' for one of our media outlets for mother's day. It ended up behind a paywall so I've been meaning to make it public in some way. Writing it made me confront lots of complicated feelings. Here it is. 1/n

I’ve always struggled with the word home. It has so many meanings. According to the dictionary, home is simultaneously the place where you physically live, the social unit formed by the people you live with, and your place of origin. 2/n

But it is also a place that provides residence and care for people with special needs, and a base of operations or headquarters. Meanwhile to be at home is to be relaxed, comfortable, at ease. It is to be in harmony with your surroundings or on familiar ground. 3/n

And to be home free is to be out of danger or in a comfortable position. I think one of the reasons I struggle with home is that it is a word that is supposed to make us feel safe and secure. But the sad reality is that for so many people it doesn’t. 4/n

I have been very privileged. My mum and dad were always able to provide a safe and secure place for me to physically live. My ‘social units’ have always been loving and supportive. But my relationship with my place of origin is more complicated. 5/n

When I was four my family emigrated from Yorkshire in the UK to South Africa. My only memory of Yorkshire from that time is of watching a large drunk man fall out of a pub in the snow and stagger off leaving one of his shoes behind. I was frightened. 6/n

But my mum was holding my hand. She made me feel at home until we got home. When I was a teenager we moved back to Yorkshire. It was a very difficult time and so my feelings for Yorkshire now are much more complicated. It isn’t home, despite it being my place of origin. 7/n

Within a few years, I’d moved to Edinburgh to go to University. After that, I lived in Oxford for a few years, and then in London. I loved living in London. I definitely felt at home there. 8/n

But life intervened and nearly eleven years ago I emigrated to Aotearoa New Zealand with my new social unit – my partner and my daughter. Because they are the ones whose hands I hold. 9/n

It took a few years, but this is now home. It’s the place I feel safe and secure. Where I feel relaxed and comfortable and at ease. Perhaps more so during this global pandemic. 10/n

And even though she lives thousands of kilometres away, back in Yorkshire, I still feel like my mum is holding my hand. Dad too. 11/11

I should add, these complicated feelings are why I've struggled for years to come up with a pepeha. But that's because I didn't properly understand what the pepeha was actually about or for. But I'm learning.