Sometimes when I’m in the USA, people ask where I am at home, or more at home. Am I at home in the US where I grew up? Or have I become at home in Africa?
I have definitely kept my American identity. Whenever I leave US to go back to Africa, leaving doesn’t feel good. And when I arrive back in Africa, it feels right and good. When I leave Africa to go back to the US, leaving doesn’t feel good. When I then arrive back in the US, it feels right and good. It’s not like one place feels right or good and the other wrong or bad or uncomfortable. No, they both feel equally good, right, and comfortable when arriving and the reverse when leaving.
I dislike leaving both places and like going back to both. So where is home for me? Well, it’s complicated.