There's an episode of "Friday Night Lights" where two characters come back to their hometown of Dillon, Texas after being away at college and reflect on what they've learned after being away from home for a few months. One friend says to the other, "You know it's kind of like this drug. When you're out of it, you see it for what it really is. But when you're in it, it seems like there's no other possible reality." After two months spent at home away from college, I watched this episode on Netflix and understood exactly what this character in "Friday Night Lights" meant.

All of high school, I couldn't wait for the day that I could pack up and leave my small midwestern town for bigger and better things. Now don't get me wrong, I still really want the things I dreamed of throughout high school. But after spending some time away and then coming back, I've realized being home isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Although my summer at home has been filled with rules, work and Donald Trump signs littering yards and side walks, I haven't been miserable. I've been fed home cooked meals, watched sunsets from the porch swing on my back porch and spent time with my family and friends I've missed while I was away at school. Although I've argued with my parents about stupid things and felt suffocated by their... ummm, love and support... I know that leaving home again in about a month will be hard. As I think about my hometown and what it means to me, it's harder for me to see all the things that I hated about this place growing up and all the wrongs that were presented to me while I was away. Every morning, I'm greeted by a sunrise over a cornfield and in the evenings, the cotton candy clouds float through the sky and the sunsets glisten on the rolling green fields covering the farmland of my hometown. I look out my kitchen window in the mornings while I'm eating breakfast and see the two horses I've grown up with and at night I can see the stars that illuminated my childhood. My grandparents are less than a mile away and are always there to offer me good food and advice.

It seems like wherever I go when I'm at home, whether it's my county fair, the Mexican restaurant I worked at in high school, or my best friend's house, I belong. Despite whatever differences there are between me and the people of my past, they still all love and care for me. This is something that's been hard to find away from my hometown. My peers at college do not know my past and they don't know the expectations people have for my future. They don't quite understand my hometown, no matter how much I explain it to them and maybe I don't really understand all the things that are so prevalent here. But because I am from Trenton, Ohio and graduated from Edgewood High School, I know what community feels like. I know that helping others in need is essential and that school spirit, even when the football team keeps losing, ensures that students will support one another.

You see, that's the problem with coming home. Even though we leave ashamed of where we come from, we leave proud of how we turned out. Yes, I'm from a place where Trump signs are just as popular as the Mexican restaurant in town, but I'm proud of this place and what it's done for me. As I start to realize this, leaving becomes harder. The people in this town have loved and supported me from my first day of kindergarten and I can promise you that without them, I could never be the person I am today and that is someone I'm proud of. So, thank you to the community that taught me so many life lessons and the people who I know will always have my back. You guys make this place so hard to leave.