As I got settled in my seat on my flight back to San Diego this Thanksgiving break, the man sitting next to me asked what San Diego was to me, I quickly responded “home.” On my flight back to San Francisco I got a similar question, and I surprised myself when I gave the same answer of “home” that I had given on my way back to San Diego. As I arrived back to my dorm, I began to wonder when San Francisco became home. I have lived in San Diego my whole life, but I’ve only lived in San Francisco for a few months, how could it already be equivalent to my beloved San Diego?

I realized home is all about the people. Home is not defined by location or a structure, but the people and memories made there. In San Diego I have my immediate family, but also extended family and friends that all make up my San Diego home. My family back in San Diego is not defined by blood, but the people who make an impact in my life every day. Up at school in San Francisco I do not have my immediate family, but a family made up of roommates and friends that create a whole new type of family outside the typical definition. Through sheer proximity and eating every single meal together, my friends became my second family. And wherever my family is I consider home.

After discovering my school family, I have decided home doesn’t have to be confined to one place. San Diego is my home and has been for 19 years, but San Francisco is my home now too. I’ve been slowly discovering this concept through the years as my family took vacations and wherever my family was visiting became home for that time. Home is not a permanent place but a feeling you get when you are with people you love and care about. So I’ve decided I don’t have to pick one place to call home. San Diego will always be a place I call home, but throughout the years there will be many more places I consider my home along the way.

Here are just a few pictures of the people who make both San Diego and San Francisco my home: