Growing Up in Brooklyn: A Fixed Idea of Home

Growing up in Brooklyn, New York, home felt like an unshakable foundation. It was where my family lived, where my routines took place, and where my identity felt rooted. The bustling streets, the corner deli, the familiar subway sounds—these were the constants that defined my sense of belonging. For a long time, I assumed home was a fixed place, a physical spot tied to memories and history. But after years of long-term travel as a digital nomad, working remotely while exploring new cities and cultures around the world, my relationship to home has transformed in ways I never expected.

Expanding the Definition of Home

When I first left Brooklyn for extended trips, I thought home was something I could pause, a place waiting patiently for me to return. In the beginning, the trips felt like vacations—a break from the everyday. But as weeks turned into months, and months into years, I realized that home was no longer just that brownstone block in Brooklyn or the familiar faces I grew up with. Instead, home became something much more fluid and layered.

One of the first changes I noticed was how my definition of home expanded. Instead of feeling like it was tied to one physical location, home started to feel like the sum of the places where I spent meaningful time. I found pieces of home in a small café in Lisbon where the owner greeted me by name, in the morning markets of Chiang Mai where the smells and colors became familiar, and even in the quiet moments alone on a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. These places didn’t replace Brooklyn—they layered onto my understanding of home, adding new textures and memories.

Embracing Impermanence

Long-term travel also challenged my sense of permanence. In Brooklyn, I was used to stability and predictability, but when you’re constantly moving, you begin to appreciate impermanence in a new way. Things that once felt essential—like a regular routine, a steady address, or even a close-knit community—shift their meaning. I learned to find comfort in uncertainty, to hold relationships lightly without losing their value. This shift wasn’t always easy. There were moments when I felt untethered or lonely, especially when I missed family gatherings or the familiar streets of my neighborhood. But those moments taught me that home isn’t always about physical proximity—it can be an emotional and mental space you carry with you.

Seeing Brooklyn Through New Eyes

Interestingly, long-term travel helped me see Brooklyn with fresh eyes. When I returned after months abroad, the city didn’t feel exactly the same, and neither did I. I noticed the rhythms I had taken for granted: the early morning bagel runs, the sound of subway announcements, the crowded sidewalks. My perspective had shifted, and I appreciated these small, everyday details more deeply than before. I began to understand that home is a dynamic concept—it evolves as I do, shaped by both my experiences away and my roots.

Simplifying Life and Priorities

Another transformation was how travel reshaped my priorities. Being on the road for long periods forced me to streamline my life. I became more intentional about what I carried physically and emotionally. I realized that home isn’t about accumulating things but about cultivating presence and connection. This clarity spilled over into my life back in Brooklyn. I started to focus on quality over quantity—in friendships, work, and daily routines. The slow, deliberate way of living that I picked up on the road helped me create a home life that feels more grounded, even amid the city’s chaos.

The Role of Technology in Staying Connected

Technology played a big role in how I maintained a sense of home while traveling. Video calls, messaging apps, and social media allowed me to stay connected with family and friends, bridging the distance. But I also learned the importance of balancing virtual connection with physical presence. No matter how many FaceTime chats I had, nothing replaced sharing a meal or a hug in person. This realization deepened my appreciation for home as a place where physical connection happens, even if it’s temporary.

Identity Beyond Geography

One surprising aspect of my evolving relationship with home is how it influenced my sense of identity. Before traveling, I thought identity was tied to place—being a Brooklynite, with all the cultural markers that come with it. But long-term travel showed me that identity is more complex and fluid. I carry pieces of every place I’ve lived and visited, and those pieces have shaped who I am. At the same time, my Brooklyn roots provide a steady backdrop—a reminder of where I started, my values, and my resilience. This blend of stability and adaptability has become a source of strength.

Challenges and Rewards of Long-Term Travel

Of course, long-term travel isn’t for everyone, and it comes with its own challenges. It requires flexibility, openness, and sometimes a willingness to face discomfort. But for me, it has been a powerful way to rethink what home means. It has taught me that home is less about geography and more about feeling settled in yourself, wherever you happen to be. Home is where you feel safe enough to be yourself, where you find meaning in daily moments, and where you nurture connections that transcend distance.

Redefining Home: Roots and Wings

Now, when I think about home, I don’t just think about a place on a map. I think about the balance I’ve found between roots and wings—the ability to stay connected to Brooklyn while also embracing the world’s vastness. I carry my home inside me, in my memories, my relationships, and the mindset I bring to each new place.

For anyone who dreams of traveling long-term or living a nomadic life, I’d say this: be ready to redefine home. It will surprise you. It will challenge you. But it will also give you a freedom and depth that’s hard to find in any one place alone. Whether you’re rooted in Brooklyn or wandering halfway across the globe, home is not just where you started—it’s wherever you grow, learn, and connect along the way.