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Hi.

I'm Mallory, a storyteller, writer, adventurer, avid reader and wanna-be-yogi. 

Stick around for adventures featuring my sassy af corgi and incredibly kind husband. 

Home is not a physical place

Home is not a physical place

Disclaimer: this post is full of feelings 

Home has always been a sensitive topic to me. 

Growing up we always had two bedrooms, two closets, two toothbrushes, and a car I actually lived in (with over 20 pairs of shoes always stored in my trunk).  My parents divorced when I was in sixth grade, splitting my idea of home in two. 

I went to college and I thought I would finally find a home in a dorm room. You can probably predict how that went with community bathrooms, roommates, and adjusting to living on my own. 

I thought, finally, moving out of the dorm and into a real house with other women would give me a home. It did, but not in the ways I thought it would, and in ways I didn't recognize at the time. 

And now as a newlywed, I thought I would find a home and with a dog and a husband. 

I was wrong. 

I found a "home" in the people I love and the people that love me. I don't know why it took me so long to come to this realization, but this year forced me to think and understand home. 

In the last year... 

I found home with my husband. But, it wasn't an apartment or a house, it became a way of life. Home happened when we were together, on a walk after work, in Germany or London, a beach in Italy with friends, on an airplane with food poisoning, and snuggling with Maybie. 

I found home with family. I moved away from my parents, so my grandmother, aunt and cousins took me in. My grandmother's house may be extra special, but it's beyond the house. I show up in Memphis unannounced on a regular basis and I am simply welcomed and fed. It goes beyond Memphis and into Chattanooga, where we are welcomed with loving arms and more food. 

I found home with my brothers, even when I feel far away from each other and our original home. We Snapchat, text, and Google hangout, and for us home lies in those places of knowing and loving one another, even while teasing and laughing at one another. 

I found home in authentic community. We found people who love Jesus and love us in the midst of mess and chaos. 

I found home in people who love me. People who seek me out and want to know me, they show me home. 

I found home in old and new friends, that are more than friends and more like family. 

I found home this weekend when it came to me in the form of a wonderful friend and soul. 

Pretty soon we will venture to one of my favorite homes in La Paz, Honduras at the Children of Love Foundation. 

Home is not a place or a thing or a person, it's a feeling of security and safety all over the world. 

love love, 

Mallory 





My musts for travel

My musts for travel

What I learned in one year of marriage

What I learned in one year of marriage