There is a story behind every reason to migrate. Some may approve of it. Some may judge and call you names. Some may be okay. Some may never understand. In the end of the day, this is your life and personal choice of how and where to live it.
“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.” — JP Morgan
I had left my country years before the actual departure. I have always been an outcast, lonely, bullied for being good at and preferring English to my native tongue, bullied for not behaving traditionally to my sex assigned at birth, fed various anti-LGBTQ and Western World propaganda, punished for not thinking neurotypically…and that’s just the top of the iceberg. To this day I am being called wrong and weak for choosing to flee, but I never wanted to be strong. I often even struggle to find a reason to keep living or trust the genuineness of people. More than a decade of life abroad has finally broken the ice of the frozen rivers of trauma, especially after defeating a decade of internalized homophobia and finding my temporary place in the Slovenian LGBTQ community. It is false however to assume this journey was as quick as a snap of the fingers and is nearing its finish line.
Having a local community to help you integrate is very crucial. With my first country it was manageable because of the school and extra-curricular activities, but I was still an outcast, floating on a tiny rock and threatened to be returned to nothingness if I were to misbehave. It became even harder when I turned 18 and moved to another country for university and had to take integration, socializing and life into my own hands.
It is both a bliss and a curse to be a forever-foreigner, even in your country of origin. I began admitting something was very wrong with me, especially after facing xenophobia based solely on my name, documents and unheard of preference for international bubbles over same-country, exclusive communities. I also noticed my perspectives and personality have changed from being on the ‘outside’ for so long and I was loving it. There have been many instances of when even after telling my full story people were only remembering or referring to me by my country of birth. Even now I have friends and acquaintances who still directly refer to me as X or keep invoking topics relating to my country of origin, despite me directly asking or begging them not to. I often call it the ‘snowball effect’ because the more I have to deal with this the more I hate my indestructible links to the damn country. It does melt over time, thanks to the people I am grateful for respecting my boundaries and choices.
“Sometimes the people around you won’t understand your journey. They don’t need to – it’s not for them.” — Joubert Botha
Later I moved to Slovenia, not really willingly and with the first four years (including Covid pandemic) severely damaging my mental health. However, here is where I finally discovered my queeriness and the self I aspire to be. After many decaying years of crippling loneliness, I am finally acquiring people I can call friends and a community that does not force me into a box. I noticed many LGBTQIA+ people share similar struggles as me and judge less as a result. I am thankful for this community for giving me a reason not to just survive but wanting to live. Nevertheless, the fight and self-discovery is far from over.
People love to put each other in simple boxes of labels and stereotypes. Every person possesses a unique background and genetic build-up and disregarding their complex selves is unfair to the life journey they are going through. Remember to respect the individual.
(Written for the International Migrants’ Day on Dec 18, 2022)
— Anonymous