I commented on someone’s post today about a book written by a woman who grew up in a country where she was an outsider. I said:

“As an immigrant who is by now living longer in my host country than my place of origin, I can relate so very much with her story. Though I tried so hard to fit in, I can’t change my appearance. I can never be one of “them” nor can I go back being what I was. I am hovering between worlds, not here nor there.”

Thinking about what I’ve said few hours later, it made me realize that being an outsider practically sums up my entire existence. Not only from my very own family but the world in general. Being “different” and introvert, honest and true to myself ensured that I will always be just outside the gate/perimeter of any community or group I happened to come across roaming on this planet.

Which reminds me of something I wrote a while ago…

‘Home’ can be a very complicated concept… It gets confusing when people ask me where I call, ‘home’. It’s an emotive word and I can’t really answer the question in a single sentence.

In a day-to-day sense Europe is home… after living here for over 27 years, how could I not consider it that way… but sometimes I wonder if when people ask about ‘home’ do they mean someone’s roots? If so__ it could even get more complex since I don’t have neither of the two. As for the reasons why… well, I can’t give an easy answer to that, not even in a whole paragraph. Come to think of it, I need at least few volumes to deal with the issue…

Someday, I too will going to write a memoir about growing up as an outsider, about my time living with ghosts and goblins and other unspeakable creatures. I will probably give it a title like: Rolling Stone, Fragments Of Forever or simply Limbo or Purgatory. I will talk about buying myself a life sentence looking for my rainbow connection, looking for the place where I belong, the safe haven most people called home…


images: VincentNoir and BenMRHall

10 thoughts on “Limbo”

  1. I can relate to what you’re saying in this post. I read somewhere once that how we see ourselves in our primary family (or how they see us) is how we’ll see ourselves outside of the family. Being an outsider pretty much sums up my entire existence too. (It started with my immediate family and that’s the way it’s always been. It took me a long to see this. I kept trying to find my place.) You really should write a memoir one day. In my humble opinion, it would be a memoir worth reading. Thank you for sharing this with me.


  2. Deeply insightful and reflective posting.

    I lived in a culturally and ethnically diverse suburb of Washington DC and I loved the diversity as I soon discovered many people who immigrated to America wanted to fit in or blend as one friend of mine said.

    I on the other hand, was curious to learn and discover something new of the culture that I was not aware of.

    I was thankful for my friends and neighbors who maintained their heritage and culture while learning to feel comfortable in their new cultural surrounds.

    The merger an blending of all cultures has provided our children with a much richer knowledge of the world and a strong base of wisdom.

    I feel so blessed to have such a lifetime of experiences and I know I’m a much richer man for those experiences.

    Each cultural contact is imprinting a distinctive bit of knowledge upon the person you encounter, so be your self and hopefully the person you meet has enough common sense to be curious without being ignorant. LOL!

    Great posting!


    1. “I was thankful for my friends and neighbors who maintained their heritage and culture while learning to feel comfortable in their new cultural surrounds.”

      I could only say AMEN to this. Like what you said about encountering people who hopefully broadminded enough to see further than their restricted horizons and leave us alone to be our own selves.

      Liked by 1 person

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