What is home ?

I am an immigrant. There is no way to call it differently. And my generic answer of why I moved all the way to Canada is: I got accepted to Collage there so I went and stayed for more than a year. The truth is, I was looking for an excuse to leave, to go away to a country I always wanted to live in. Yeah, economic situation in Croatia sucks, but to be honest, I could have stayed there and had a job, but the truth is I never felt like I belong. It felt empty and like I can’t be myself.

Little did I know that immigration process is fucking long and complicated. So graduated, and I stayed in Canada and I felt more myself but I had no one to go to, I had no family there, I meat amazing people but I didn’t have relatives or any actual family members, and while everyone thinks it’s a brave thing to do and that I made it there, they have no idea how many nights I cried, how many times I was sick and all I wanted is for my mom to make me soup. Yes, I am pretty much aware that I am an adult and can take care of myself but having no family on site to turn to is harsh, no matter how old are you. So even when I call Canada my home, is it true? No. Even with pretty much fluent English, I am still an immigrant. And then it comes Christmas time, when I go to Croatia for 2 weeks and feels like a mother fucking stranger like never in my life. I have grown, I have changed and people that I used to know so well, did not change and I can hardly be open to them without feeling judged. I love them all dearly but have that weight over me that I still can’t be myself and even when I try to explain, they don’t understand, because they are still the same. And I have changed. I am a stranger now.

Currently, I am in Holland. The best way to describe it is no mans’ land, I am living with my youngest brother. I travel, I go places because maybe that will fill in the void. And it is not because adulating and growing up is hard. It is the fact of being a stranger in your own house that is the hardest.

I know everyone will choose to immigrate to another country out of different reasons, mine was to find myself and to run. To run from what I was settling to do in life because I needed more, I wanted more.

So if you are anything like me, or feel the same. The journey is by far not the easiest. You will get maybe sometimes jealous of your hometown friends what they already ‘ have’ and all you have done is lived out of suitcase and figuring still what is your purpose.

At this point and time, all I can do for myself is go down my bucket list and have that going.

It was hard, it is still hard and it will be. I put myself up for this ( or God ) and I will finish it and I wish to share my story so no one ever feel that kind of alone like I do.

With Love


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