As I approach my welcome back to the States after a long year away, I’ve noticed something here in Holland—it doesn’t matter how long we’re away from our roots, home will always be home.

I see this with my boyfriend, who’s been living outside of his native Netherlands for five years now. But, despite the distance or time apart, his friends and family all welcome him back with open arms as if he’s only been gone a few weeks. It’s nice to see, and something that I can relate to. Yes, Maarten enjoys living with me back in my homeland of America, but there’s just something about revisiting your childhood home, isn’t there?

As much as his family has been extremely good to me over the holidays, and I feel completely comfortable with them here and like I’m also part of the clan, I’m sure I’ll experience the same feeling in just a few days as I reunite with my family at the international airport in Philadelphia.

But just like Maarten puts on a good face for me back in my country, I’ll do the same for him here in his country. They’re both equally lovely homes, but just not mine. Not yet...