Some places matter because of who you were allowed to become there.

Some places are important not for their beauty or their memories but for the permission they gave. A room where you could be odd, a town where nobody had already decided who you were, a house where a particular part of you was allowed out. The attachment is really to the version of yourself that became possible there.

Think about where you were most yourself, and what that place allowed. Then ask whether your current life makes room for the same thing. The permission can often be rebuilt elsewhere.