Milwaukee is Home.

Across thousands of households, a wooden sign reads “Home is where the heart is.” Whether this exact verbiage is used or not, the message plays around the notion that “Home” is not a location. There is no denying that this concept is true. Home is the feeling you get when you’re laughing with a group of friends. Home is the warmth and rush of safety when you light a candle and lay on your couch. Home is your mom’s perfume or best homemade dish. Home is comfort, peace, and hope. It goes beyond familiarity and into harmony of mind, body, and spirit.

In my experience, home is undoubtedly all of these things (My mom’s chili is heaven). However, I have been so many places in my life. I have been to 33 states. traveled in nine countries, and lived in six different cities.

None of those places are Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Maybe it’s because I left. Maybe it’s because I went to college out of state and now live nearly a thousand miles away. Maybe it’s because compared to the stress-free clean airport of Mitchell International, LaGuardia is best described as a crowded landfill.

Nothing compares to the excitement I feel when I get off the plane in Concourse C.

Nothing compares to seeing the giant MKE letters as I drive out.

Nothing compares to the city skyline in the background of the Calatrava Art Museum.

I have been “gone” for quite some time now, as I haven’t lived at home for more than 2 months at a time since 2010. Part of me wanted to escape the scared life I once lived for all my teen years. Part of me wanted to do something different than my sister, who stayed local for college. My stubbornness has been persistent since as far back as I can remember. I always told myself Milwaukee wasn’t for me. I used to use phrases like “too Midwestern” and “there’s just not enough to do.” Like many many many things in my life, I was very wrong.

For the most part, people in Wisconsin have hearts of gold. I appreciate holding the door for strangers and being almost overly-intrusive into everyone’s business. It’s part selflessness and part nothing better to do. However, the kind and genuine spirits of Milwaukee people have been hard to come by anywhere else. The people of Wisco are not in a hurry. They are not rushing to the next thing. They are unapologetically (sometimes to a fault) themselves.

Don’t misinterpret, Milwaukee has flaws. It’s frigidly cold for four months of the year. You have to drive two hours to watch America’s favorite football team. The population isn’t a haven of cultural diversity. The city isn’t quite there yet in the whole “dudes marrying dudes” thing yet. Maybe one day.

I do not plan to move back, despite my parent’s wishes/hopes/bribes.

We have the world’s largest music festival. A classic, fun, artery-clogging state fair. An east side covered in coffee shops, stores, and bars. Amazing and abundant parks. Custard. Bradford Beach. Bloody Mary’s topped with cheeseburgers. Bike trails. Beer. Cheese. Particularly excessive, the last two are.

The perfect balance of neighborhoods, rival school districts, and city life. UWM, Marquette, Wisconsin, Green Bay. Who do you root for? New Berlin West or Eisenhower? That one private school that nobody can ever beat (cough CMH). No matter your school, no matter where in the state you live, we can all meet in Milwaukee or Madison or Green Bay and be Wisconsinites. I don't just think of state championships and junior golf league. I think of this place and how it has grown on me.

Before I sound like a cheesy (get it?) “Visit Wisconsin” commercial, I’ll finish with the main point of this unorganized declaration of love. Milwaukee is, and forever will be, home. I proudly tell all my friends and coworkers out east that I am from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. There is a quality about this place that leaves worry and fear on the runway in NY. Family there or not, I yearn for a trip to Kopps. I miss nights on Brady. I wish I could shop in the third ward or pedal tavern down Water. Take me back to high school football or fish fry Fridays. This city doesn’t try to be another city, and I hope it never does.

My family members are in my heart, whether in New Berlin or Europe or Florida.  The wooden signs are true for us too, and hang on our walls. This city, though. This city is different. I am finally glad it’s different than the rest. I am so unbelievably grateful that Milwaukee is part of my story.