Home?

One year ago today, I went on the biggest adventure of my life so far. Likely ever — or, at least, that is what it feels like. I went on an exchange to Canada, and it was the best thing I have ever done. I made friends for life, and I had the most amazing experience of my life. But if you have ever read an article, or comment, or anything written by an exchange student, you already know how amazing a year abroad can be. So I am not going to talk about that.

One full year is — when you think about it — not really that long. Especially when you are abroad. Suddenly it is all just… Gone. It was not like that, when I went to Canada. I remember standing in Copenhagen airport, hugging my family and saying goodbye. It was hard, sure. But it sure as hell was not as hard as saying goodbye to my host family. Because even though I knew, that I was going to see them again, I could not put a specific date on it. But that was not the hardest part. The hardest part was the fact, that I was never going to experience the life I had in Canada again. Some of the amazing people I met, I will never see again.

The first weeks after I got home, I was incredibly sad. And I still am, but after a few weeks of being back — not being there — a lot of that sadness turned into anger. I was angry that I was not going to see some of the people again. I was angry that I did not get to do some of the the small things, while I was there, and who knows if I will ever get to do them?

And then there is the problem of being “home”. Because first of all, I cannot tell you, where my home is exactly. But secondly, people have to start realizing, that it is not easy to readjust to life “back home”. Which is why I instantly get the urge to leave everytime someone asks me the question: “So, is it good to be home?”, because no, it is not. But everyone assumues it is, because “home is where the heart is”, but if I am not sure where my home is, how the fuck can it be good to be home? But I cannot use that as an answer, because it will seem insulting, not only to the person asking the question, but also insulting towards my family, my country, and the place everyone but me sees as “my home”.

I have read countless of articles written by exchange students, and only one touched on the subject of how hard it is to go home. Because when I arrived in Copenhagen after a year in Canada, I realized that the twenty hours I had just spent going “home”, were also twenty hours spent leaving another.