What if I tell you readers that I grew up, searching for a home, because my home never really felt like one.
Don’t get me wrong, this article isn’t about anything family related, instead it’s about this internal feeling. The warmth, safety, comfort, being at peace and knowing that you belong.
All that good stuff.
However, twenty years of my life, I never felt like I belonged anywhere. How tragic, yet I survived, and I wanted to share my story because I know so many people out there might have everything they wish for, yet they lack the feeling of a home.
Growing up, life was a bit complicated for me. My parents were from two different countries. My mum was from Bahrain, grew up with an Iranian, Arab culture. While my father grew up with an Iranian, Pakistani culture and they raised me with all three mixed together. However, no matter how much you try, being multi-cultural isn’t always a positive thing.
Going to school, all my friends had their own cultural identity, since Pakistan is such a large country, with different cultural provinces. Everyone had their little groups, while I was the odd one out. When you think of school, people are categorized by their interests or little clubs and we never had that.
Don’t get me wrong, I always had friends, but I never really felt like I belonged with them. We’d go out, we’d have fun but when it came to certain things, our cultural differences would generally stand out. Everyone had their own little identity, while I never did. I don’t know whether it because I lacked family in Pakistan or because I never liked to live there, but I always felt different no matter how hard I tried.
I always taught whenever I’d go to Bahrain, I’d feel like I belonged and part me always does. However, this other part of me, had this empty feeling. There was love, but it still wasn’t a home.
Being in Bahrain, surrounded by family I felt safe but again, maybe because of this rebellion attitude, some of the cultural aspects, never made sense to me. I felt I was too modern, when it came to some things and I realized, maybe this is the point in life where I decide, what type of ‘home’ would I want.
However, I still went on my way, going from place to place, with no idea where my home really is.
I felt like a gypsy in my own mind and when you think about it, aren’t we all gypsies?
A million years ago, God brought Adam and Eve on this planet. Weren’t they foreigners in this land, stumbling from one place to another, moving, whenever they realized this wasn’t suitable for them to call this area their home?
Therefore, aren’t we all gypsies?
I’m not going to lie, this feeling of not having a home was extremely frustrating and those of you who’ve felt this feeling, I’m sure can relate. There would be days I wouldn’t want to get out of bed because I was fed-up with this mask that I put on, all for the sake of fitting in. Now when I think of it, I feel as though it was a process of growing up.
I came to Scotland and the same thing repeated, until I met a man who made me question everything, I believed in. I always thought a home was a place that would make you feel, alive, safe and just easy. Never in a million years did I think it was a person.
The first day we met, he looked towards me and the moment our eyes met, I felt like I was home, I was safe and I felt like I belonged. It took me twenty years to find a home and if you’re their still searching, I assure you its there too.
All you need to know is a home is a person, rather than a bunch of people or a country. Home is a feeling that resides inside you and is awaken by the first time you lay eyes on them that is a home. So, until then just enjoy the ride.
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