home

 Five windows, six doors, four beds. Two bathrooms, three sinks, fifteen steps. 975 square feet and two bedrooms, making up my family home. 

This two-story condo that my parents bought in 2007 makes up my whole childhood. It's where I used to ride a laundry basket down the stairs, like a roller coaster. It's where my brother and I play Marco Polo, climbing over counters to not get tagged. It's where I climbed up the refrigerator to grab a snack, but fell on a bag of rice, not breaking any bones. 

This tiny house laid the foundation for my core memories and although I am a young adult and have surpassed the size of this house, I still find the peace in it like I once did as a child. 

Oftentimes, I would invite my high school classmates who lived in huge houses in a wealthy neighborhood nearby. The first question when they entered my room was, "Where do your parents sleep?" This question often gave me a lot of anxiety because I am not even sure how to answer it. I felt ashamed, insecure, sad that I didn't have a beautiful house like they did. I didn't have my own closet, nor did I have a swimming pool in the backyard. My parents gave up the rooms in our house to my brother and I, sacrificing their comfort for our privacy. 

How do I make someone who has lived in a mansion their whole life understand that my parents lived in our living room? 

I think it's funny that we don't focus on who lives in the house but rather on how the house looks like. Does it have a huge garage? Does it have beautiful windows? Does it have high ceilings and a modern kitchen? 

As I got older and became more confident about where I lived, I slowly started inviting friends over to my house, regardless of how small it was. I've come to terms that my house does not represent who I am, and if my friends truly loved me for who I was, they wouldn't care about where I lived. 

Throughout the years, I learned that my house doesn't embody who I am. And to be honest, the people who notice that there aren't enough rooms in the house or notice how small it is are people who still care a lot about their outside image. They are more focused on my house - something so invaluable, just four walls that sit empty if it weren't the people who lived inside it. 

They don't notice the warmth they feel when they walk into my home, or the decorations of my art hanging on the wall. They don't notice the heart of my family, but rather where everyone sleeps. 

It's sad because I've come to the realization that this world is so fixated on the outer appearances instead of learning the true components of what makes up a person. I've realized that a giant, gorgeous home can be the most depressing and isolated place in the world if not for a happy family living in it. 

Sure, it's easy to say "Karina's family is poor, they don't even have enough rooms to sleep in" but what people don't realize is that the people who live in the house is more important than the shell. And by shell I mean my house, because it's just walls and a roof, something that could be easily destroyed within minutes. What can't be destroyed is my mom, who cooks delicious, warm food every night for my family. What can't be destroyed is how my brother and I would share secrets with each other in his room at night. What can't be destroyed is how my parents would dance together and make fun of each other after a long day of work. 

Back when I was a teenager, I couldn't understand this concept. I thought that what clothes I wore, what car I drove to school, and the house I lived in depicted exactly who I was. And the more goodies I had, like new shoes, a new car, or a new house, the more valuable of a person I am. Sadly to say, that is just how our capitalist society wants you to believe. The more you have, the happier you are and the more worthy you are. 

As I grew older, I worked on my confidence, my insecurity, and learned the true meaning of being whole. Because no matter how many materialistic things you have (house, money, cars) it would never cover up your deep-rooted insecurities. So I encourage everyone to have appreciation for what you have when you see someone who has less than you, and I encourage you to be curious about someone's lifestyle instead of judging. 

Because even though my family is not wealthy and we don't own empires, we still have so much, so much to be thankful for. 

That's all for now. 

Love, Karina.