Word for the Day: Ambivalence
(n). - the state of having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone.
No offence to all my friends here in Cebu, but there was once a time where I would leave the Philippines without a second glance, if it meant I would be going home again.
There was once a time when I would promise to leave, and never look back. There was once a time when I cried literal tears of joy when I was told I could go back home for two months. There was a time when I was bullied, ridiculed, and unappreciated - a time when I just wanted to disappear, and make things go back to the way it used to be.
There was a time when I would have left at the drop of a hat; leave the bad memories, bad people, and bad places behind.
But for some reason, I can't do that right now.
Ten years after being thrust into an unfamiliar environment, I am finally being given the chance to go back, live my life, start again. I should be happy. I should be ecstatic. And I am, really. However, I don't understand why I'm not moving faster than the speed of light to complete my requirements. On the other hand, I seem to be unconsciously delaying myself. And it doesn't make any sense to me.
A lot of things can happen in ten years, and I can only guess what happened that makes me want to stay a little bit longer. I can actually speak and understand the dialect now; before, it would hurt a lot when people would purposely talk in Cebuano behind my back because I didn't know what they were talking about. I actually have a voice now, and a neutral facial expression that scares people - I am no longer the little girl who was so easily intimidated by my other classmates. I don't care what people think about me anymore, which matters, because before, I would cry when I wasn't 'girly' enough, or fit in with the other kids as much.
But most importantly, I have true friends who really love me. Friends who adore me, accept me for being me, and make me laugh a hundred times more than my old 'friends' who used to make me cry. I don't hate the world anymore, and these friends, they mean the world to me. They made this place, this place I used to hate, into a home that I love, and will treasure for the rest of my life.
When they say I can go home now, sometimes I ask myself - where is my home?
No offence to all my friends here in Cebu, but there was once a time where I would leave the Philippines without a second glance, if it meant I would be going home again.
There was once a time when I would promise to leave, and never look back. There was once a time when I cried literal tears of joy when I was told I could go back home for two months. There was a time when I was bullied, ridiculed, and unappreciated - a time when I just wanted to disappear, and make things go back to the way it used to be.
There was a time when I would have left at the drop of a hat; leave the bad memories, bad people, and bad places behind.
But for some reason, I can't do that right now.
Ten years after being thrust into an unfamiliar environment, I am finally being given the chance to go back, live my life, start again. I should be happy. I should be ecstatic. And I am, really. However, I don't understand why I'm not moving faster than the speed of light to complete my requirements. On the other hand, I seem to be unconsciously delaying myself. And it doesn't make any sense to me.
A lot of things can happen in ten years, and I can only guess what happened that makes me want to stay a little bit longer. I can actually speak and understand the dialect now; before, it would hurt a lot when people would purposely talk in Cebuano behind my back because I didn't know what they were talking about. I actually have a voice now, and a neutral facial expression that scares people - I am no longer the little girl who was so easily intimidated by my other classmates. I don't care what people think about me anymore, which matters, because before, I would cry when I wasn't 'girly' enough, or fit in with the other kids as much.
But most importantly, I have true friends who really love me. Friends who adore me, accept me for being me, and make me laugh a hundred times more than my old 'friends' who used to make me cry. I don't hate the world anymore, and these friends, they mean the world to me. They made this place, this place I used to hate, into a home that I love, and will treasure for the rest of my life.
When they say I can go home now, sometimes I ask myself - where is my home?
I'm still crying...
ReplyDelete