No Home

​"Where are you from?" I am asked, day in and day out. Where do I hail from, where is my family located, where was I born, where will I be? How can I give an answer to a question for which I have none?

​I was born in Honolulu, Hawaii. I lived there for three years before moving to Colorado Springs, Colorado. From there I moved to Fort Dix, New Jersey. A few years later I was at Fort Meade, Maryland, then moved to Fort Drum, New York. Now I am at Fort Bliss, Texas. Still, by this time next year, I will return to Fort Meade, Maryland.

​I've always been torn and even confused when I have to answer the question, "Where are you from?" I was born in Hawaii. I live in Texas. I've been several places in between. Sometimes I wonder if I should give my address, or my town, or my state, or even my country. I listen to others say a single state because that is where they were born and that is where they live, and yet this cannot be applied to me. I laugh at how easy it is for them to give such a simple question such a simple answer.

​"Where are you from?" I am asked. I am from all of these places combined, and yet that is not an acceptable answer. So can I possibly choose? Do I choose the one I feel most appropriate, or the one I have the strongest connection with?

​I am from everywhere, I am from nowhere. I was born on an island before I moved to and through five more states. My lack of a home aids in my lack of self. I cannot be explained in a single term,  because I have no term at all.