Most of the times, we take the “home” feeling for granted. Yet is hard to find that very special place where you feel safe, happy, yourself, at ease, or in a word “home”. I changed places to stay in for a dozen times since I came to Bucharest and the only constant place to go to was ET’s…So my only refuge was my mom’s house, the place I lived in since I was three.

One weekend I got home, pretty upset to be honest. I went into my room and found myself facing an empty wall – the wall that was filled with Certamen Ciceronianum Arpinas posters from my trip to Italy with Romania’s greatest Latin students. I turned to my room’s door and saw it as naked as the wall. No more Equinox Theater poster with Mishu’s name on it! The other posters of irrelevant musicians had also been taken away. And I started crying and kept crying for so long that my mom actually had to hold me in her arms to make me stop. “If I knew it would upset you that much I would have never taken the posters from your room, no matter their state” she said.

To be honest, the posters were pretty torn apart – they’d been on the walls of my room for more than four years. But I suddenly found myself in a pretty unfamiliar room and I felt so displaced. Or misplaced, I don’t know. I just felt the room and the apartment were being redesigned to adapt to my not being part of that “home” anymore.

The truth is I had a strange state of mind for about two months, sometime this winter – I didn’t feel at home anywhere. I didn’t feel at home in my body and in my mind, so I guess this was the real problem. Right now I feel at home everywhere – my mom’s, my place in Bucharest, my dad’s, Oana’s…Getting better, right?