Nostalgia is both sad and beautiful. Practicing in New York as a psychotherapist gives me the privilege of witnessing people's complicated emotions towards their hometowns all over the world. As an immigrant myself, I see my childhood home as somewhere I can never truly go back, but a place that will always occupy a special place in my heart. Where is your home? If you could just use one word to describe your feelings toward it, what would it be?
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