Confused Immigrant
We don't hear enough stories in the media about confused immigrants. (Hello! Here I am!) And by confused I don't mean in general like about math or American politics (... are y'all ok over there?) or like why flat earthers exist.
This post started as me saying that I wasn't going to continue writing Canada vs Australia posts anymore, mostly because, and I quote from my deleted draft, "I don't really care what the differences between Canada and Australia are because they are both so ingrained in me and my character and my person that in my mind they have become one. They are both part of me, and to compare two parts of me in such an analytical way is difficult and weird for me at this point and time in my life." (From there I wrote a bunch of nonsense and proceeded to delete everything.)
So I'm confused. I'm confused about where I belong, and where I'm supposed to be. I know where I came from and where I am, but I don't know where I'm supposed to go. Being part of two things that are bigger than myself and not knowing where I fit makes it difficult to know who I am. Home is where your heart is, right?
And if I can't find my heart then how do I find my way home?
I know I've posted something like this before, wherein I don't have a clue what I'm doing and I'm feeling kind of lost. It's not just about being a confused immigrant, it's about being a confused person. A confused person who has one more thing to be confused about.
That's okay. Everything is temporary, even this confusion, even watching my friends from back home graduate without me or friends moving away for university or people I love hurting. Confusion is temporary. Displacement is temporary. Pain is temporary.
Love is not.
This post started as me saying that I wasn't going to continue writing Canada vs Australia posts anymore, mostly because, and I quote from my deleted draft, "I don't really care what the differences between Canada and Australia are because they are both so ingrained in me and my character and my person that in my mind they have become one. They are both part of me, and to compare two parts of me in such an analytical way is difficult and weird for me at this point and time in my life." (From there I wrote a bunch of nonsense and proceeded to delete everything.)
So I'm confused. I'm confused about where I belong, and where I'm supposed to be. I know where I came from and where I am, but I don't know where I'm supposed to go. Being part of two things that are bigger than myself and not knowing where I fit makes it difficult to know who I am. Home is where your heart is, right?
And if I can't find my heart then how do I find my way home?
I know I've posted something like this before, wherein I don't have a clue what I'm doing and I'm feeling kind of lost. It's not just about being a confused immigrant, it's about being a confused person. A confused person who has one more thing to be confused about.
That's okay. Everything is temporary, even this confusion, even watching my friends from back home graduate without me or friends moving away for university or people I love hurting. Confusion is temporary. Displacement is temporary. Pain is temporary.
Love is not.
I'm also pretty confused myself. I am of Nigerian ethnicity but don't feel Nigerian enough. I also don't feel Irish enough but want to preserve the little 'irish-ness' I have, you know?
ReplyDeleteI'm glad I'm not the only one. I think if anything, you can chose your own definition of "Nigerian-enough" or "Irish-enough". Like I know some Australians think you're Australian only if you're white and have lived here three generations back. So your heritage is part of your identity and you can do with it whatever you wish. (And by 'you' I don't specifically mean you, Adesuwa Grace, I mean anyone. Especially myself.) Identity is a confusing thing.
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