Second year in Canada

It's been two years already.

Two years since I took that long, long flight across the Atlantic in search of a new place, of a new home. I was uprooted, willingly so. But then, it seemed all so uncertain whether I would find my footing here, whether I could root myself here in Canada. Despite all the excitement and amazement associated with arriving in a new country and new city, the unknowns and obstacles of foreignness stood in the way.

Looking back, I think I have done quite well for myself.

Not everything has been smooth sailing, and I cannot say I have really spent the entire length of the two years that I am supposed to have been in Canada in Canada. But I am pursuing my own life, and beginning finally the search for the happiness and possibilities that for a long time I was denied... or that I denied myself.

What I found was a sense of belonging. A sense of freedom and openness that is as wide and free as the land itself. On the way, I have found and consolidated friendships that allow me to sail through rough and difficult times. I have a cat, just the thought, let alone sight, of whom is able to make my heart squirmy with love and affection. And steadily, or at least I should hope so, I am working toward some kind of career and discovering what it is that interests me.

Canada has given me renewed hope. Two years on, I am often still buoyed by that sense of excitement and range of possibilities that await me. Most of all, I can finally come home at the end of any day, and say I am home.