A Nomad’s Return Home

I haven’t lived in the place I was raised since 8 years ago. 

As soon as I graduated high school, I was off! Claiming new lands and taking on new adventures.

Ok, I’m starting to sound like a medieval knight story, but it’s true. I went on to live in Boston and then to Argentina and then to Prague and now Montreal. 

I have called many places home and many places have taken a piece of my heart.

I long for each place because of all the memories and experiences I earned there.

Though I have lived in places for long periods of time, I still consider myself a nomad. I knew each place was temporary. 

Some of my family, who are not a fan of my traveling or my moving around, once commented that hostels are for homeless people.

It is meant negatively and derogatory, but in the way it is true. When I was actively traveling, I was without a permanent home. Hostels were my home that I shared with other travelers who became my family.

Now, every time I vist my first ever home, the first place I lived, it doesnt really feel home. 

It feels familiar, but I feel so distant like I am in a dream. This place that is so familiar is a stranger to me. 

Any place that I return to, though I long for it, I realize I long for the memory.

I am different when I return and sometimes the location is different with new buildings or businesses. 

When I return to the place of my childhood, I feel a sense of time travel. My younger, more insecure, more quiet self seems to be within the things that I left behind and when I visit, this auroa comes out and tries to embrace me.

Now, Im sounding like a horror film, but this is how I feel and I believe, at least, several people will agree with me. 

My current self- the one that has accomplished so much fights off the old personality, but yet it seeps through.

Making it seem even more a dream- did I really accomplish so much?

Coming home is lovely. I get to see family, friends, and eat familiar foods, but my nomadic lifestyle has given me so much that I dont regret it.

For now, Montreal is home, but who knows where it will be next, which then would make Montreal hold the same familiar yet strange feeling as all my past homes do now.

For now, I’ll enjoy Montreal. I’ll love it as much as possible. Just as I loved all my past homes that have given me so much.

What are your thoughts? Let me know in the comments!

Connect with me through social as I explore! 

3 thoughts on “A Nomad’s Return Home

  1. Pingback: Expat Life: Learnings from India, England, and Canada | My Open Passport

  2. Pingback: Expat Life: From Arkansas to China | My Open Passport

  3. Pingback: Expat Life: 3 Languages, 3 Countries | My Open Passport

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