Maybe the location where I call home creates a judgement in other people’s eyes. Being a one bedroom apartment, I have to create a space where I can enjoy the same teenage life as others with their own room. As a kid, embarrassment overpowered me when in school our group had to meet up for a project. We competed against each other to go to the winner’s house. “My room has a flat screen T.V and enough room for us to do our work” ended the game, labeling them as the champion.
Going to their home, we had to take off our shoes when entering in order for the floor not to get dirty. One’s reflection could be seen on the floor. My eyes widened… It seemed like a maze of wonder, where every turn led to somewhere different. She offered many grand things, as a host of game show that offered many great prizes. Walking up the stairs that led to more rooms than I imagined, she described each rooms job. Her room consisted of her favorite singers and bands, all posted across the walls for each person to admire them as they walked in. They filled the room, also with writing of quotes she admired. The bed, something ordinary, caught my attention right away. A bed so vivid and colorful filled with her own teddy bears and things she held dear. She shared her own memories in one room, while I had to share mine with my mom and others. We went to the dining room to work on our Robotics project, but my eyes paid most of the attention to the size of the dining table. Her family only consisted of 4 members, but the table had 10 chairs. I did the math in my head about 50 times, “Did the dog also sit here,” I thought to myself. Something compared to a four-seat table in the middle of the living room, I considered this very classy. It was finally time for me to go home…
I came home to the smell of arepas burning on the pan, my mom stood there with her hands open.
“Como estaba la casa,” she asked with her joyous face as she prepared the meal. “Estaba bien,” I responded as I took five steps to the living room. “Que hicieron,” “Nothing, it was fun.” I dropped everything on the couch, as I threw myself on it. I felt in place, where I am capable of enjoying the same feeling as a person with a house. She started to bother me while pulling my hair as I watched a movie. The whole night we ate our arepas and watched scary movies, as we both fell asleep on the couch.
Yes, my home may not be picture- perfect, but the memories I shared within it makes it from something small to something greater. The joy that one shares with others in a place overpowers that of others with grand houses and solitude. What you have is what you make of it, and I made my tiny apartment into a mansion through love.