By the age of five, I had already lived in five different homes.

Do not perceive this as instability, but rather as a defining feature of my early childhood — one that ultimately illuminated the value of home.

It wasn’t until my third home, a condominium in Manhattan Beach, that I began to develop my most treasured memories: holiday cookie baking parties, afternoons at Color Me Mine with my cousin, and pink-and-white-striped bedroom walls, all of which defined my precious time there.

My bedroom walls, weekly ballet rehearsals and my beloved preschool teacher remain so gentle in my mind that I’m often moved to tears by nostalgia when I think of this brief era of my life.

Those striped walls no longer belong to me, but when I smell my mother’s cooking, I’m transported back home. 

The concept of home is universally recognized but deeply personal in definition. For me, home has never been confined to an address. 

Some may perceive home to be a physical structure — a place bound by geographical means that people inhabit. I must disagree and define the aforementioned concept to be a house. A house can be devoid of meaning; windows and doors do not make a home. Home is the soul; the house is merely the vessel. 

Home is built through rituals that give the space its rhythm, the unspoken moments of magic between loved ones and the emotion-colored memories that give those walls meaning. Home is the echoing of laughter in familiar hallways. It is the comfort of my mother’s meals and the warmth of my father’s embrace. 

Home is what was and what will be. 

While I’ve wrestled with the notion of home for quite some time, I acknowledge I am luckier than most. A pivotal point in the definition of home comes for many at age 18. It is at this season of life when many prospective college students are faced with the life-altering leap of moving from everything they know to the unknown.

I am unable to attest to such a revolutionary transition. As a native Angeleno, that leap was gentler for me in comparison to a vast majority of my peers.

While I’m a 35-minute car ride away from everything I cherish, many of my friends require meticulous planning and a plane ride to achieve the same privilege. 

A defining trait of USC culture is our notable reputation for having an incredibly substantial international student population. In fact, about a quarter of the student body is composed of international students. Students arrive from across seas into a new city to call home. Naturally, this means that this portion of the student body must make the brave transition from their home country to Los Angeles.

There exists this common, seemingly incurable affliction that frequently plagues my international and out-of-state friends: homesickness. Homesickness is a sentiment of emotional distress that originates from the distance between yourself and what you call home: an unfortunate disruption of the life you’ve always known, a yearning for what was left behind. 

According to the National Institutes of Health, up to 70% of university students have reported experiencing homesickness. While it may vary in duration and intensity, homesickness can often have physical and psychological manifestations. From depression to headaches, a yearning for belonging can take its toll on you. 

Fear not, hopelessness should not consume you in the face of a longing for home; I am here to provide you with the cure. This remedy requires occasional discomfort and intentional exploration, but it is necessary to alleviate your symptoms. Homesickness has an antidote: community. 

Discomfort is inevitable when stepping into the unknown. Especially as a university student, the first few weeks or even months away from home may feel particularly isolating. However, connection can transform an unfamiliar place into home. The only way in which you can combat this sinking sentiment is to go out and seek others’ company. 

Join that club you’ve always been interested in. Talk to that classmate beside you, and go to that event you’ve seen promoted everywhere. You never know who you may meet and how it may change your life. 

Now, I’ve lived in my current home for 14 years and have spent two semesters at USC. I consider both of these prominent places in my life home. Home is not something you leave behind — it is something that you carry with you. Home is not a single place but rather a mosaic of emotions, moments and experiences that culminate and shape our identities. 

You are the anchor, and you alone possess the ability to foster a home wherever you go. 

Whether it be those strawberry-and-cream walls of my infancy or the balcony of my USC apartment, each home has held an evolved version of me. Whether you find yourself in your childhood home or your little dorm room, know that home is where the heart is. It transcends tangible confines; you carry home with you. 

Paulina da Silva is a junior writing about culture and community in her column, “Pauli’s Slice,” which runs every other Friday.