Coming Home

Finally, this morning I wake up for my own weekday-before-work morning. These past weeks I’ve been waking up at 6am to work on side jobs because I found out after 5pm I’m basically brain-out. But this morning is mine; can’t say the same about the rest of the week. But it means I’m going to be so busy, 10 days will go flying by as 5. So I’m taking this hour to just write. I’m not into writing sad things, so I won’t write at all about some things. But all in all time is passing, and soon I’ll be in my real home.

I feel very lucky, because most people spend their live finding a place to fit in, a place to call home. Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of Europe while reading the only books I had back then, a set of encyclopedias for school work. Yes, a time without internet that most people seem to have forgotten. I would write poetry at 8, read the encyclopedia with history, geography, biology, geology and much more, and I would draw thinking I could become like the man named Da’ Vinci I would read in those big black books. I would often be around the patio imagining my adventures in a medieval land. Back then, Europe for me was just England and Ireland. But I somehow knew that is where I should end up at. I pushed that little dream of mine aside when I started to grow up. When I became aware of financial situations, and how my goal would be to get all A’s in school, get into the best University and work to help my parents pay bills. Nothing else really went through my mind. Not even saving up for a big adventure in the old world. At around 13 I stop thinking in negative ways. I decided to conquer my nightmares, stop gossiping like everyone else, and focus on just being happy and showing people that you can be happy regardless of what goes on around you. I began a spiritual journey to find that which sounded like MY truth, and no one else’s. I wrote a lot, endless journal pages. I lived day by day, staying true to myself, except that prom night when I joined the party I didn’t enjoy. Since that night, I decided to stop pretending to fit in and just find my place. And I knew deep in my heart I would do so.

Years passed by and after a few set of miracles as I like to call then, I am in a new land, a strange yet cozy home-like new land with a language I could barely comprehend and food I needed to learn to try. The first breath I took of its cold air when I got outside the airport reminded me of my carefree childhood days; I felt home, that cold wet air smell of January, felt home. Something which my host mom apologized for as being “not the pretties’ days in Holland”, indeed they were the coldest I’ve experienced so far. But little did she know, that that cold grey wet foggy day, is something I will never forget as the day I found where I belong. The cold on my skin, the burn on my eyes, the smell of the air, I remember it all as clear as today. In ten days I return, this time to stay, where I belong, with whom I belong. Long time I stopped caring to fit in, people called me weird, but in the end, I am blessed to say I found home. I am happy, I was happy and I will continue to be happy. This is my gift to life, for giving me so much.


10 Days ♥

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