While packing for a recent trip to the Philippines, my wife exclaims excitedly, “We’re flying home!” After a few seconds of thinking about what she said, I reply, “Home?” I’m puzzled because Tokyo is our base now. If we’re flying home, are we flying home from home? Where is our “home”, really?

We’ve lived most of our adult lives in Japan. We have permanent residency, we bought our place, and our work, hobbies, and life are here. This is where we met, married, and built our lives together. So Japan should be our home, right?

We both spent our childhoods and early twenties in the Philippines. Our friends from grade school through university are mostly there. Our families are still there, too. Of course, my wife’s “home” in the Philippines is different from mine. Naturally, we didn’t grow up in the same home. When we say we’re flying “home,” we’re referring to the Philippines as a whole.

After all these years in Japan, it still feels natural to call the Philippines “home.” The habit is hard to break. We never say we’re flying “home” when returning to Japan—instead, we say, “We’re flying back to Japan.” Recently, though, we discussed this and agreed to start calling Tokyo our “home.”

Reflecting on this, we realized “home” isn’t just one place. Bulacan, where I grew up, is our home. Metro Manila, where she grew up, is our home. The Philippines, with its sunny skies and friendly people, is our home. Japan, with its four seasons and mindful people, is our home. Tokyo is our home. As cliché as it sounds, home is wherever our hearts find belonging, and ours belong in all these places.

What about you? Where are your homes?