Where you live does not define you. I know this for a fact. Where I live isn’t the best place on Earth by any means…but it’s my home. I was born and raised here. One day in the near future I’ll move out and away but it will always be my home because it’s where my family is.
But today…today I got made a joke of because of where I live. (It has a reputation). Apparently it wasn’t mean offensively but I took it that way. If I was defined by where I live, I wouldn’t be doing anything good with my life. The town is full of common slobs. I don’t mean to sound degrading but that’s the way it is. The people are generally vile. There are fights and screaming long into the nights. There are very few times I stand at a crossing and understand the conversation of the people beside me. I sometimes feel like the foreigner… but I am working my way out of here. I have good grades. I am polite. I respect things! You can’t lump someone with everyone else based on where they live. It just doesn’t work like that and it’s hardly fair to think you know someone because of their location!
It does have some perks this town… It has a history… It has some nice places to take the dog. And in the summer, you seem to forget some of its problems and just enjoy the weather…but other than that. It sucks.
My point is that, yes choosing a house is a big thing. Nearby amenities is key; schools, shops, playgrounds, anything else your life needs. But a house becomes a home. So whether you live in the Beverly Hill mansions or a crummy flat in London, if it’s a home then it doesn’t matter where you are. The place doesn’t define you. What you make of it does.