My American Dream
12 years ago today, I emigrated from Germany to the United States of America. I arrived with nothing more than two suitcases and a gigantic Foo Fighters poster. I didn’t know anyone, had no place to live, no savings but I had a job offer.
I didn’t have to flee my country, I wasn’t persecuted for my faith, there was no war, economical crisis or natural disaster, I had to escape. I simply decided to leave family, friends and all things familiar behind and start anew. My employer sponsored my visa and paid for my ticket. I didn’t have to face (m)any obstacles coming here.
It is hard to explain where my desire to move abroad originated and what exactly drove me to leave my own country to settle permanently in another. What was I seeking? All I know is that I’ve found it.
“It” is composed of my daughter, my friends, my faith, my home, the way I talk, think, dream, my career, the food I eat. This country is utterly broken and its promise of justice and liberty for all often seems to be forgotten. “It” reflects my commitment to being a socially responsible citizen and intentionally raise an empathetic mighty girl who cares about others. “It” is still muddled with fear, uncertainty and pain.
I once thought that “it” was my husband. But when he left and I had to face the difficult decision to stay in the United States or try to move back to Germany with my daughter, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I was already home. Even though I lost my in-law family, my home, my dreams and so much more, I never doubted that I belong here.
I’m missing my mom, my sister and nephew, and my friends. This single working mom thing is extremely complicated without the support of family. Nonetheless, I am home. Most importantly, I was (am) privileged and am very grateful that my journey home was relatively easy.