My week-long spring break ended Tuesday, and I was lucky enough to spend Easter weekend with my mother in the city I was born in.
My mother joined the Air Force in 1992. After basic training and technical school, she was stationed at the Royal Air Force base in Upper Heyford, Oxfordshire. That was where she met my father, who was also stationed there. I do not think I have to tell you where this story goes.
In 1993, I was born in Oxford, and it has always been my truest home in my heart. However, I only visited this beautiful city on two occasions and this was my second time visiting it.
Many people ask me how I can feel attached to a city and country I have not spent much time in, nor remember living in. My answer is simple: it feels like home. After living here for a few months, this sentiment has not changed.
When I first returned to England five years ago, there was an instant spark that was both new and familiar to me. I was at peace and felt like I belonged because the country felt like an old friend.
While growing up, my mother told me stories about our life in Middle Barton, Oxfordshire. We lived behind a sheep farm and had a river flowing through our back garden.
Farmers called the river “The Morgan” and that is where my middle name comes from. She told me about her trips to London, the time my grandmother came to visit us and what we did around the village.
Oxford was just as marvelous as when I left it five years ago. One of the things that makes it so beautiful are the colleges scattered around the city. The University of Oxford contains 38 different colleges, and it is a dream to get my Master of Studies degree at one of these colleges.
It is madness to think that the last time I was here was a month after high school graduation, and now it is a month until I graduate college. I hope someday I will come full circle to live in this country again.
We all have journeys to make. Find what starts a fire in your heart and go after it.