The following is a guest post by Christina Vanvuren.

I am, at heart, a wanderer.

For as long as I can remember, adventure has called to me and I have responded with a whole-hearted yes at every opportunity. The past year has been a, exercise in being comfortable alone, letting my feet sink into the ground they are planted on, and renegotiating what ‘home’ means to me. This is probably the most difficult challenge I’ve ever faced — moving roughly 39 times in my 31 orbits around the sun has warped the concept of both home and community for me. I’ve always felt like I was searching for both, but coming up empty-handed.

Through the hard days of the past year, I learned an important truth: my home is in me.

Forever looking for belonging in other people, places, and pastimes, I’ve finally come to understand that, all along, it’s been me that I’ve been aching for. After so many years of seeking, I have come home to myself and finally feel at ease with being exactly who I am.

Part of this personal growth was deeply influenced by the HIT Like a Girl pod community. Martini Mondays (to which I show up with wine), our group Twitter chat that ascends beyond networking and gets real, the Slack channel—these online spaces have filled me up in the last year in more ways than I can express. It’s rare to find a professional (or personal, for that matter) group of women that make you not only feel welcomed but truly celebrated.

When I heard about the HIT the Trails adventure, I instantly knew I needed to be involved..

An adventure to close out (hopefully) what has been a trying and traumatic year for all of us—some more than others—is the perfect transition. Hiking, camping, and connecting in real life with this community feels like the exact right way to put into practice the concept of home being not somewhere I go but something I carry with me—to Joshua Tree and Niagara Falls and Mount Zion and many beautiful places in between. It feels symbolic and also exhilarating; the literal opposite of being stuck inside alone, waiting out the pandemic.

What I’m most excited about, though, is bringing my 10-year-old daughter, Journey, along on this incredible trip. For her to experience this kind of supportive, kind, generous, and fun community at such a young age will, I hope, let her know that the kind of belonging we all crave is out there. It might take some trial and error to find it. But when you do? It will feel just like coming home.