Coming Home: The Unexpected Nourishment of Connection

I recently took a trip back home to Boston, and honestly, I wasn’t sure how it would feel.

There’s something about returning to your roots that can stir up so much—memories, emotions, old versions of yourself. I was nervous. I thought it might be heavy. I braced myself for an emotional weight I wasn’t sure I was ready to carry.

But what I found instead surprised me.

It wasn’t heavy. It was deeply nourishing.

There was something beautifully grounding about walking familiar streets, hearing those unmistakable Boston accents, and sitting at my family’s kitchen table. Being with people who knew me long before I became who I am today… it awakened something tender and real inside me.

I expected to feel pulled back into the past, but instead, I felt more connected to the present. I realized that going home didn’t mean going backward—it meant plugging back in. To love. To memory. To the parts of myself that have always been there, waiting patiently.

There were poignant moments—quiet ones, laughter-filled ones, even a few tears—but what stood out most was the sense of aliveness I felt. A clarity. A revived sense of inspiration and purpose.

I came home thinking I might feel drained. I left feeling more whole.

Sometimes we avoid looking back because we’re afraid of what we’ll feel. But our pasts, our families, our memories—they can hold powerful medicine. Not always perfect. Not always easy. But full of life and meaning and connection.

And connection, I’m learning, is one of the deepest forms of healing.