The Denials & Hopes of Self-Exile

Apathy; what else do I dare to feel? Moments before boarding the plane, many emotions fill my brain: sadness, anticipation, anxiety. Yet, the only one I really dare to feel is apathy. Yet, another flight taking me away from the land of my parents, my siblings, my best friends. What a plethora of feelings! Every time, it’s getting worse as I am getting older. 20 years, almost to the day. 20 years of immigration and self-exile from where I was born.

It all started with the desire for education and a ‘better’ tomorrow; for the idea to get a few scientific degrees and hoping for a brighter life ahead. So I did get educated, first with a B.Sc. then with a Ph.D. That led to a research position at a top school. Who could refuse such an offer? It was a dream come true; like a kid in a candy store, and it was great. Meanwhile, I was seeing everybody returning home or just moving away; a couple of friends here and there at the beginning. Then a few more, but it was OK. I was visiting home every 3 months for several weeks at a time.  Thus, I had the best of both worlds.

However, I started missing things. First and partly due to my insecurities, I missed opportunities with great women in my homeland. Some of them I met during my education years. Amazing women that wanted to be with me as well for real, and I pretended I didn’t realize what was going on - always avoiding the subject.

Perhaps, I was afraid a possible rejection or perhaps the idea of returning back home to start a family. Who knows? What counts is the end result which is always the same: Missed opportunities and friendships of some sort, while deep down you know what you lost.

Unfortunately, the list goes on. Soon, you start realising that people close to you also move on and start forgetting you. As they grow older and start their own families, you become no more than a distant memory and a short break for them to spend with you when you go back to visit. Of course, the conversations are pretty much the same: ‘Is it worth it?’ ‘Are you satisfied financially?’ ‘Any chance of ever coming back?’

I bet you know most of the answers already. ‘Worth it’ is a relative expression after all. It’s all about balance. I am away because I am in a better financial situation. But it’s hard. It’s hard to accept what you leave behind. At the same time you need to convince yourself and others that it’s worth it. You need to convince everybody including your 70-year old parents that your late second move even further away from home was and continues to be worth it.

At times, you are partly successful. From the financial perspective, it’s easy to convince them. They see you wearing designer clothes and an Omega watch. They see photos of your SUV on your Facebook page. You can even tell them about all those blondes gagging for you! You tell them all that, and it’s very close to the truth. This is what your years abroad have given you: A great education, a decent job and some sort of financial stability.

However, when the people close to you tell you that they miss you, that is when it actually hits you hard and deeply. You then realize that all the things you gained away from home come at a great price. You are lonelier out there. No matter how hard you try to find the right people in a foreign land, at the end, you always miss the people you love and grow up with.