What Home Means To Me

Chantelle from Seychelles Mama tagged me to describe “what home means to me” (quite a while back now when she was still pregnant with Freddie!) becoming an expat has changed my views on this somewhat.

While I was back in the UK one of my friends asked me where home was now.  When I was leaving Dubai I said

I’m going home

for a month!

When I was coming back to Dubai I said

We’re going home now

Both places are home, neither feels more like home. Partially due to the fact that I’m an expat, partially due to the type of person I am.

Being an expat life is very transient, you live on borrowed time. Especially in a place like Dubai. 2 years tends to be the average that people I know stay for before contracts end, jobs change and it’s ship up and move out. Leaving behind close friends. Friends that become like family because you don’t have family out here.

If we stayed in the UK we’d have put roots down by now, mortgaged ourselves up and taken our children to live in the countryside while we worked in the city. Except there wouldn’t have been children there’d have been child. Just one. The toddler. We wouldn’t have been able to afford any more until he went to school. Even then it would have been touch and go I think.

But we didn’t stay in the UK. We moved to Dubai and grew our family of 3 to a family of 4. Life continues to evolve and grow around us in the place we call home. We’ve moved from our 2 bed apartment to a 3 bed villa in preparation for having Baby Boy. Both these places were home, just as much as my mum’s house is home.

If we move again then I’m sure that the next place will become home. Filled with our furniture. Our bodies. Our love.

And in essence that’s what makes a home. The people who are in it. The memories that are made there. The laughter that is held within those four walls. The tears mopped up. The cut knees kissed. The spot where your baby took his first steps.

To me, to coin an old saying, home is where the heart is. And my heart is with these 3 boys. So wherever they are. That’s home to me.

Daddy Time.  Photo Credit; sophiamattiaphotography.com
Daddy Time. Photo Credit; sophiamattiaphotography.com

Which is a good thing. As the other thing about being an expat is that you get hit by this thing called wanderlust. And who knows where you might end up next…. one thing I know for sure though, whenever we get there, that will be home.

And now, in true blogger fashion, I want to pass this tag on to fellow expat blogger Prabs from Absolutely Prabulous along with UK just bought her first house blogger Lisa from Mummascribbles to see what home means to them.



  1. September 13, 2015 / 12:25 pm

    Home is definitely where the heart is. I lived abroad a lot when I was younger, working in all sorts of different countries during what I fondly call “my travelling years”. I loved it but I always called England home (though Australia became a close second).

    • Laura
      September 18, 2015 / 12:22 am

      Whereabouts have you laid your head? It’s funny isn’t it I just call wherever my bed is home. The villa we just stayed in on holiday became home for the week!

  2. September 13, 2015 / 12:43 pm

    I agree home is where the heart is and to me that is where my family are. Lovely post I do wish I had taken the plunge and moved to a different country years ago x

    • Laura
      September 18, 2015 / 12:24 am

      It’s tough to do but completely life changing! I love living abroad and after a few weeks travelling round I can’t wait to go home! X

  3. September 13, 2015 / 11:35 pm

    Thought I commented on this before when you tagged me for it. I do love this and yes I know when I do mine, home is where the heart is will feature heavily. It’s a funny life really isn’t it? But I could never have done the grow up in one place and stay in the same country my whole life thing. Would feel claustrophobic. #BloggingMumsClub

    • Laura
      September 18, 2015 / 12:32 am

      Cant wait to read yours! I always thought I would stay in the one place and migrated back to my family origins. Then I met my husband. And the rest is history!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.