This week, one of my cousins (hey Louisa!) is getting married and I couldn’t be there. More or less my whole extended family, bar for a few of us who couldn’t make the trip, will be home celebrating their union.

It’s during occasions like this, that have me missing home the most. A longing of being close to familiar faces and being comforted in the fact that we’re here together, if only for a short while, to revel in & love on each other.

Homesickness comes in waves. It’s the birthdays you miss, the weddings, the get togethers. It’s not having the ability to ring up family or friends and say ‘Hey let’s hang out at so-and-so’s house on Sunday and just chill.’ The community. It’s the support you crave during difficult times, the jokes shared, grandparents witnessing the birth & growing up of your child, the warm hug that lets you everything will be ok. The familiarity.

The hardest time of year is December. I know I’m not the only one who gets all the feels during that time of year. A time where food & drink are a plenty, there are parties and celebrations galore, merriment & a collective mood of ‘Henjoyment’ (enjoyment for Non-Kenyans) is rife in the air. Often times, if you’ve been living abroad, this is the optimum time to travel back home because you’re bound to see family and friends, who you otherwise haven’t seen all year. A time to reflect, break bread and unwind. Good times!

I left home to study abroad when I was 18, a choice I made because I wanted to experience something completely different than what I knew. And I am proud of my younger self for making that choice without much thought and worry. It allowed me to meet the most amazing people and experience a life away from home that I craved at the time. I have always been someone who doesn’t think too much about the future (a trait that has led to both good and bad outcomes) but all in all, my care free attitude is one I’ve always admired. Must be the fact that I grew up in the Coastal town of Mombasa where life is slow and one adapts to not worry too much about things because that then leads to unnecessary stress & honestly why are you stressing?

I have lived in Malaysia, Singapore and now France, having never really been able to call any of these places home. But what constitutes a home? Home can be defined as “the place we feel most comfortable, loved, and protected.” Home for me is a feeling. A feeling that you can be your most genuine self without judgement, a place you can return to where you feel safe and can rest in that feeling.

It’s been a struggle for the most part defining this for myself as I come to terms with my mental health struggles and up until recently, the birth of my daughter. The homesickness only solidified itself even more after becoming a mother and I often felt and still do feel like there is something missing. A longing in the pit of your stomach which never truly goes away. A sentiment I recently found out a lot of the women around me who birthed children away from their respective places of birth felt as well. I can find solace in knowing this but it does not ease the feeling.

I feel a sadness that my daughter won’t get to experience some of the things I experienced growing up. Family gatherings, access to white sandy beaches within walking distance, the food, the game drives.

My strong need to grow and form community while being a mother in a foreign country and raising a child in a culture that is not mine is ever more evident now than it was before. Finding like minded women who share the same sentiments and struggles & are open and honest about them. How do we navigate moving through a world that we didn’t grow up in let alone bring up a child in said world? Adapting & changing whilst also staying true to what you believe in so your child gets to experience ‘the best of both worlds’.

The struggle to meet and connect with new people is real and putting yourself out there can ease some of the sadness and loneliness that is often felt. My saving grace has truly been calls to and from cousins, chatting to friends online and sharing my struggles without fear of judgement.

I had told myself once I left home that I would try and make it a point to go back home once a year. In recent years I haven’t kept to my promise because of work & other commitments and every time I’m not able to I notice a dip in my mental health.

I’m finding ways I can offer myself the love and care I need to get through times like this when going home isn’t an option. Trips to see family or friends who live nearby and as I mentioned before, phone calls and texts. Thank you technology! Ultimately, my goal is to create a life for myself that allows me to travel back home often.

So as my family back home in Kenya celebrate love, I want to offer anyone else feeling these same feelings to acknowledge how you feel. It is normal. Call a loved one or have a good cry. This too shall pass.

xx

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On Beginnings