22.02.2026

In response to Jim’s prompt:
https://wp.me/p8EzVZ-KqO

This week’s theme is home — that place we can leave to explore the world, knowing it will still be there when we return.

For some people, home is simple. One country. One language. One rooted identity.

For me, it has always been layered.

Born in the UK.
Raised in Norway — a place I struggled with for many years.
Living the past fifteen years in the Canary Islands.

So when I think about home, I don’t think about geography.
I think about moments.

That’s why I chose Heaven Is a Place on Earth by Belinda Carlisle, written by Rick Nowels and Ellen Shipley and released in 1987.

Because this song holds a memory.

I was 17. Too young to drink. Too young to go out. But a travelling band was playing locally, and my mother wanted to go — so we went together. I stood by the stage all night, singing and dancing like no one was watching… except they were.

During one of their breaks, the band members came over and spoke to me. They told me they wanted me to sing with them. I said I didn’t have the guts.

Later, when they played Heaven Is a Place on Earth again, the vocalist came down into the crowd. I was completely lost in the music — and suddenly I heard my own voice amplified.

He had tricked me. He had handed me the moment.

And what did I do?

I panicked. I ran out. Locked myself in the bathroom.

Yes — very dramatic 17-year-old behaviour.

When I finally came back, an hour later, they were packing down. My mother was sitting calmly, having a drink with one of the band members. When they saw me, they called me over. The vocalist apologised for tricking me — but he said he only wanted to give me a boost in confidence.

We ended up helping them pack their tour bus. They drove us home. And that night, I sang all the way — not into a microphone, but without fear.

Their leader even said they would have loved for me to travel with them, but understood I was too young. They gave me their address and promised they would return the following year. I received a couple of letters. But by then, life was moving forward. I went to the city to study.

Still, whenever I hear that song, I smile.

Because sometimes heaven isn’t a country.
Sometimes it’s a moment when someone sees something in you before you do.

Maybe that’s what home really is — not a place on a map, but a memory that reminds you who you were becoming.

And maybe, in that small hall at 17, I felt heaven on earth for the first time.

— Maggie
The Afterlove Voice 💫