I chanced upon this on Tumblr and I cannot stress enough how much it struck me.
I was born in the Philippines but at the age of 3, we moved to Singapore. Growing up, I believed that it was okay that I didn't fit in. After all, I wasn't originally from there. I'm a Filipino and I'm from the Philippines. It was okay that I wasn't 100% Singaporean because I really wasn't. I spent a good 10 years of my life in Singapore. I grew fond of the culture and the life there but my sense of belonging was never properly established. I was comfortable but, secretly, I still felt like a fish out of water and I still believed that my home was in the Philippines.
I managed to settle into secondary school (high school) but halfway through the year, I find out we were to move back to the Philippines. I was beyond devastated. I truly was. There was so much I was leaving behind. But even so, there was a part of me – which I was blind to at the time – that was undeniably excited. "I'm going home".
To cut it short, I ended up feeling alienated even in my own, supposed, home country. I knew I didn't belong in Singapore but if I don't belong even here in the Philippines, where do I belong then? I've been living in the Philippines for 8 years now since we moved back and I still don't feel that I belong. This used to rattle me so but I've come to realize, after so long, that it doesn't really matter. Home is where you make it.
I suppose this goes out to the people who know what this feels like.
I found my home in God. If you haven't already, I hope you find yours soon, wherever you decide to make it. ♥