Diaries From a Daughter of Hmong Refugee Parents - Entry 3
Adjusting
February 2st, 2025 @ 13:50
I woke up to a vibration that came from the flat above me. Next to me, I searched for my phone to check on the overnight news and texts from friends and family. While I had been asleep, home was awake. I was still getting used to this feeling. This feeling of accepting I’m no longer in Merced anymore. This yearning to be where my people are, yearning to be on the same time zone as them; it had eaten me alive. When I made the decision to come out here in London, I was not aware of this immense penetrating feeling of loneliness. During the time of doing research on studying abroad and moving away, so many youtubers and influencers had given the same testimony of how enjoyable it is. To pack up your bags and move to a different country. To up and leave and restart. To learn new skills. To befriend new people.
During the four and half months since I got here, I’ve collected a few compliments from local classmates and instructors.
It’s admirable to make the decision to pack up your things and move to a whole different country.
You’re brave to do what you did.
I wouldn’t have been able to do that.
My daily walk to the center of my town. I took this video realizing how different my reality now is.
At first, I accepted how it made me feel. I felt good. Like I was doing something great. Admirable. I was envied. But then, as those similar comments continued to be said to me, I wondered if they even knew why I came out here. I felt silly, to obssess over the details of why I made a move. Like many others, they may have wanted a new change in their lives, a different environment, or maybe even see new places because that’s what they’ve always wanted.
But they would never understand the urgency of wanting to get away from home, to escape and become something bigger. To define your own purpose. They wouldn’t understand. Nor would they understand the ticking clock inside of me to leave a foodprint on the world. My leaving was greater than any minor experience I wanted for myself. My leaving served a purpose far larger than the world I live in. But because I dared to leave, I could only hope the decisions I make and the connections I form will continue to bless me in the right way.
Around the time of New Years Eve, I realized I had fallen in love with a close friend of mine from home. Up until then, I’d had plenty of conversations with myself about whether or not I’d remain a single woman for the rest of my life or allow someone to show me their world. I wasn’t even aware that I could fall in love. I had rejected the idea of romantic love tremendously and instead invited platonic innocent love into my life. I made myself believe platonic love was enough to fulfill me. It was all an illusion. The younger version of myself was a huge romantic lover. A fool. A lover without brains. And I loved myself for being like so. I loved how much love I gave away without an expectation of ever recieving it back. All the boys who had hurt me in the past, my forgiveness was a given. But there came a time when I drew the line of self-respect. I guess I had guarded my heart immensely well to the point where I had become put off by the mere mention of romance. That was, until I fell for that certain close friend.
We had been well in contact since a little bit before I left for London. Their notifications began to become my favorite pings on my phone. I had only ever gone on social media to post my daily little videos and talk to them. We’d send video messages to each other. I’d tell them about my day, they’d wake up and tell me about what their plans are. If something happened throughout our days, we’d be each other’s first contact to tell it to. We spent so much time together, it seemed like we never left our rooms. It dawned on me that I had not gone out to create the bonds and new connections like I had told myself I would do. I realized I was becoming attached to them. It became clearer this friendship was becoming something more.
On New Years Day, I confessed without the expectation of them reciprocating anything. We confirmed our fondness towards each other but, just like any other special connection that I’ve had in my life, it would never worked out. I had lost a friend but I had learned something new about myself, something that I had been desperately curious to know; whether I could fall in love or not. It had taken a bit of time to get used to their absence but with these new rose-tinted glasses, I felt just a tad bit light-hearted as I took my first step of building new connections out here.
Currently, I’m taking baby steps to re-adjust and reground myself in my purpose why I’ve decided to come out once again.
