An immigrant’s identity crisis

Jolana Amara
Aug 25, 2017 · Unlisted

Moving to another country seems an exciting adventure. An absolute necessity for others. A hurricane of new opportunities, new environment, new people, new things, new habits… new everything. Survival mode just slips into a new routine and life carries on.

In all that new excitement there lies at least one aspect that is not new — and that is you.
(Plus about a suitcase of sentimental crap, you know you don’t need, but brought with you over the border to remind you of “home”.)

It is easy enough to simply slip into a NEW routine, skype with mum twice a week and catch up with friends on facebook, but sooner or later you realise that all the NEW has taken over and your life is nothing of what you remember it to be before you landed into this new adventure.

I’ve lived abroad for the past 14 years. Almost a half of my life.

Imagine being from a small town with a beautiful national park at it’s surroundings, river, shepherding, slow lifestyle.. place where people just turn up at your door step to check if you wanna go for a tea, or a long walk.
Parties you turn up to alone, because you know everyone there.
Going for fresh bread to the bakery in the morning and returning home the next day, because you’ve met your mates and decided to go for a trip to their cabin in the woods.
Imagine coming from a place like that and then landing in London, all by yourself, with only a few quit, two outfits, tea ceremony set, really good tea for the ceremonies and a sleeping bag.
Oh, and did I mention, I didn’t speak very much of english either. Let’s say, next to none.

Even though I soon discovered, people in the UK don’t drink green teas, or do tea ceremonies, something was pulling me to persevere. I discovered the many opportunities London had to offer. Started college, found party buddies, and a whole new routine begun.

Very quickly life became extremely busy. And it’s been busy ever since.
It’s hard to find space for your own self when you have to grind so hard for basic social needs in an urban reality. The constant battle of priorities. Juggling.

The ideal environment to brew depression, feel isolated, or, like me, find yourself in an identity crisis.

Do you ever feel like you are only a certain percentage of your good self?

Many immigrants keep together in small communities. There is a huge number of flat shares from all over the world. Cooking and eating foods they know from their countries, speaking, reading books and watching movies in their language. I guess the need to keep their cultural identity is most important for them.
I didn’t feel that being from a certain country defined who I was, and didn’t have the need to follow in these immigration patterns. Is that where it all begun?

I don’t mean to say I’m unhappy, I am happy, it’s just — sometimes I find it hard to be myself. And sometimes I am not sure of what being myself actually looks like. Sure, it’s natural, time passes, we grow. But I wonder what my growing self would look like if the growing took place else where.

I’m very lucky to be close to a truly amazing network of incredible human beings… — but even with such a great support, I find myself wondering sometimes :

How much of me is really me, and how much of me is what the society has pushed me to be? And, if I am what the society pushes me to be, what does the real me look like?

Perhaps the safety net is to identify ourselves with our cultural background. But somehow that doesn’t really do it for me. I don’t think that being from a certain country defines who I am. I don’t think that being of a certain gender or age defines who I am. I am a complex being. Riding through life where everything is moving so fast. Moving into constant new. Required to adapt to something new every day.

Recently I talked to inspiring humans about ideas and how we come up with the best ideas. It became apparent that we don’t give ourselves enough space to think, to contemplate and perhaps even to connect with who we really are.
Perhaps, if I give myself more opportunities to connect with who I am, instead of spacing out on Netflix (by that I mean — having real quality time with myself), perhaps I will be able to feel more myself and less the society’s myself. Perhaps, if I spend more quality time with myself, I won’t feel crap at all.

It’s been 12 yrs since I came to London now, my english is still not very impressive, but I am a Londoner, because London has given me my new identity. Sure, it’s a pretty confused identity at times, but I’m a work in progress.
Learning and self discovery being the coolest two things in life — at least for me.

So.. it’s always an odd one when I’m asked the “ Where are you from “ or “What do you do” question. Boxing me up just won’t do. I’m a complex being.

I don’t know if I am making any sense, probably not very much. Maybe I’m even being dramatic.

But if you are feeling like a stranger to yourself sometimes, or to this damn crazy world, let me know. Maybe we can grab the tea ceremony, go for a long walk and talk about it.

)

Unlisted

Jolana Amara

Written by

an immigrant living in the UK, learning to embrace cold, wet and grey weather. Passionate about decolonisation, sustainable communities and social innovation.

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