“What colors do you want your room painted?” my dad asked me when I was in 5th grade. I could have picked pink or gray or anything in between, but I’m just going to assume I was colorblind back then because I responded with green and purple, noting that I have a peach colored carpet. I think we can all conclude that I should not aspire to be an interior designer. Though the colors did not go well together, my room slowly became a piece of art that I stayed in from the time I got home from school until the time I had to go back to school.
My room is me. The bookcase shows my love for words, and the piano shows my love for music. There are pictures all over my wall of the people I love and the friends that have become strangers. The clothes scattered all over my floor and the dishes on my nightstand show my messy habits and love of chaos, and the pictures my nieces and nephews drew that are taped to my wall shows my appreciation for the artistic genius that is in every child. But then there’s this quote on my wall. In big letters it says, “We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known” (McCullers). This bedroom that has become my utopia, is an escape from the familiar world I’ve known. My room hears me scream songs at the top of my lungs and try dance moves that should never be seen in public. This bedroom has been my only stage, but now I must go find my Madison Square Garden. Even though this piece of art I spend most of my time in is Heaven on Earth, there’s another paradise waiting out there for me. I have no guilt for the life I have lived so far, but I have no guilt for the one I want to live. Whether it’s Venice or San Francisco, I can hear the place calling my name, whispering in my ear. I long for something more than just my bedroom, than just Pottstown, Pennsylvania. This room is like a best friend I feel obligated to never leave, but this room also inspires me to step out of my comfort zone. It reminds me of the adventures waiting to happen, and it reminds me of those rare moments where you feel infinite and that every cell in your body is made of the strength that holds the planet together. I have been a princess, waiting for the prince to save me from boredom and take me on an unprecedented adventure. Now the pictures on my wall and the books are collecting dust, inspiring me to be my own hero, to be my own prince. I’m homesick for the place I have not yet known, and I want to step into rebellion because that’s what travel is. Travelling is rebellion and freedom in its purest form, and I am ready to answer to that whisper in my ear.
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