I’m a homebody still learning how to be a homebody

I’m not someone who does a lot of traveling, don’t want to be either. Why sleep in a hotel or an AirBNB when you can sleep wrapped in your own covers and on your own pillows and maybe, if you’re lucky, the cutest little black cat curled up next to your legs? I love hiking but I’m also lucky enough to live right by a national park that I make a point of visiting whenever the itch to be in nature strikes. And then I can go home and shower in my own shower and curl up on my own couch wrapped in the Christmas kitty blanket my Grandma gave me a few years back. I love the smell of my own coffee, the tea selection I’ve carefully curated, a pint of lactose-free ice cream I keep in my freezer. I love reading and writing and nights spent in front of the TV with a cat in my lap. Why travel, when the haven I desire is the one I live in?

I am a homebody, through and through. Especially since I learned about the concept of hygge. It made a lot of sense to someone who grew up in Northeast Ohio winters. Winter in Ohio can last three months…but more than likely, you’re frozen from November through the end of April. If you’re exceptionally unlucky in a given year, you might also get snow in October or the beginning of May. The idea of embracing a more indoor life, a homebody life, a hygge life, makes a lot of sense when you’re trying to stick out snow and short days with little sunlight.

However, I also like to embrace these ideals in the summer. I’ll read outside, drink iced coffee from all the local coffee shops I like to visit as opposed to hot coffee that I make myself. But I’ve always been the “mountains and hiking over beaches” summer vacation kind of person and since I live so close to a national park, there’s really no reason to go further than my own backyard.

There are still times, though, that I feel guilty for being a homebody.

I think it likely originates from some version of FOMO. I listen to friends and coworkers discuss their various vacations, planning weeks at a location hours from home. I read introspective articles about the wonders of traveling, of getting away from the “same-old, same-old.” I get asked what I plan on doing on my own vacations, and heat rises to my cheeks, wondering if I should have a more interesting answer like everyone else around me. Am I missing something? I’ve never been on an airplane and when I say so, people stare at me with wide-eyed disbelief. At first, it’s fun to receive such a response. But as time goes on, I grow itchy beneath the gazes of others.

I know that traveling has wondrous benefits. I know that it’s incredible to experience just how very wide the world is. I know how nice it can be to get out of the cycles you sort of fall into as life goes on and avoid feeling overwhelmed by typical responsibilities that you might feel if you remained within your own four walls. Learn about a new culture! Eat great food! Spend time with your loved ones!

Vacations are important. Traveling is important. But not right now, not for me. And I’m learning that this discordant point of view is okay to carry.

When I think about traveling someday, I dream about traveling with a significant other, with a family, and right now, I’m single. The idea of traveling alone isn’t as interesting to me. Yes, I’m familiar with the idea that traveling alone is a thrilling opportunity. But it isn’t for me. Aren’t vacations supposed to be relaxing? If I’m spending thousands of dollars, I would rather not spend it counting down the days until I can go back home.

And besides, if I traveled alone, I would want to spend the time eating interesting food and hiking. Things I can do my exploring the area in my own backyard. There are so many hidden pockets I haven’t seen yet.

I don’t know why I feel like I need to justify these things. I guess because I feel so at odds with the rest of the world, not caring one way or the other about traveling. At least not at this stage of my life. And that’s why I say I’m still learning how to be a homebody. Because I’m learning how to not apologize for wanting what I want.

When I think about what I want in a life, I look around and realize so much of it I already have. I want a cozy home to live in. I want time to write and read. I want to spend vacations with a quiet mind and a sleeping cat. So why seek the joys of someone else’s life? I am not them. I have no reason to apologize for that. And no one expects me to, except for some insistent voice in my own head.

So I am learning to quiet that voice. I am learning how to be the homebody I want to be. In the place with bookshelves full of books and my own cozy bed and so much coffee and so much tea and one single very needy, very loving cat. This is what I’ve always wanted. And so I will not waste time apologizing for being happy with what I want and instead spend the time letting myself melt into the warmth.