My room at my mom’s house is a very special place to me because I have so much history there, all my possessions live there. It’s where I study and practice for auditions, I can be silly there and it doesn’t matter. I feel very safe even when there is a possible threat of danger. I can crawl in my room and be alone when I’m sad or angry or just need a moment and let myself go for a few until I calm down. There are so many childhood memories in my room, some good and some bad but the history always weighs on me every time I enter the door.
After talking in class about this topic I took some notes on why place can mean more to one person then another. Firstly, place can mean more if things have happened there and like I said before this totally applies to my room. Place can have religious/spiritual meaning to it, which is half right in this case; I do talk to God sometimes so I guess that counts. Place is subjective and hard to define, this is so true because my measly sentences in the first paragraph don’t even scratch the surface of my actual attachment and feelings about my room. Attachment to a place happens because of what happened there and what we retain in our memories of what happened there. Freedom and lack of restriction are unique to certain places, definitely a big part of why I spend a lot of time in my room. And lastly, the anticipation of wanting to go to a certain place builds it up in your mind. This is exactly how I built up my room at home when I was living in a dorm at JMU in my freshman year of college. I was depressed and 4 hours away from home and missed my house and room desperately, idealizing it at the same time.
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