Dusting. Packing. Shipping.

College. University. The next step.

There is no word that scares me more than one that asks me to plan where I am going next. I am a dreamer, i am someone who wants to see the world happy and peaceful. I am someone who wants to help make it that. I am someone who can't be in one place for long. I am someone afraid to let people in because I want to spare myself the torture of having to leave them in a year's time. I am someone who at 17, panics so much about her next step that find comfort only in her mother's arms; and only at a point where it has reached the very bottom of where it could possibly go.

I have been to lots of places. I have adapted who I am to many cultures. I have let a lot influence how I speak, or stand, or smile. I have changed so much that I no longer know who my reflection in the mirror is. If you ask me where I feel most at home, it is not where I am from nor is it where I am currently living. Nope; its Qatar. It's weird, I am homesick for a place that I was too afraid to fully accept as my own when given the chance. I have been on a lot of planes, the food never gets better but the views, they change. The people change. The language changes. I adapt.

There is no words that can frighten me, I have heard them all. I have been in situations where my life is forever uncertain. My current place of residence waiting to be dragged from under my feet. My belongings waiting to be dusted and packed ready for shipping. Myself, longing for those words to be uttered and the flights to be booked. I am used to the plan always changing, I am used to others changing the plan for me. I have never changed it for myself. That is all about to change.

This time, it is me. I am pulling the trigger. I am booking the flights. I am dusting and packing, ready for shipping. I am adapting and afraid. There is no words that can scare me, I am prepared with answers for all your questions. What I want to do? Change something, the world is too optimistic. To make a difference in any little way, in just one persons life it enough. To know that I did not just live a life of greed and regret is enough. Where i want to go? Easy, everywhere. Family? Yes, a baby. Hopefully before i am 30. Don’t ask, it's just something I want. Job? Photographer. Writer. Mother. Education? This is where I draw a blank.

I do not have a home to return to. My home is wherever I am at any given time. I can adapt and make anywhere my home. I do it so well, nobody knows the difference between my roots and my home. Just as I am unsure of where I am to go next, so is my home. My family are my home, as expats we are all we have that is an always. We are only guaranteed that wherever we go we are together. My home, my family are living this uncertainty with me. Neither of us want to return to our roots, neither of us want to pull the trigger. To dust and pack, ready to ship.

I am now forced to pull the trigger, to be the deciding factor in the future. I have the gun loaded in my hands, trembling with the fear of what ifs. The path to loading the gun was unsimple, complicated, unsure, abstract, other words that describe strange uncertainties. The plan always changed, the gun adapting each time. As I adapted the gun adapted to fit my hand. Slowly growing into place, making mistakes. First business, then a footballer, then a writer. Now, a photographer. A school for kids interested in making photography their future. The gun ready to shoot and make a difference, in any little way in just even one person. The gun ready to make a home for somebody who can't.

 

chloen

YWP Alumni

More by chloen

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