The school year is already three quarters over and so, once again, I'm looking ahead to a great transition.
I remember writing something out seven weeks before I was to return to Abu Dhabi for the first time to begin the looming school year full of now-fulfilled and -unfulfilled expectations. I remember the insecurities I had about coming to join these new, incredible people who I had only communicated with thus far via fragile Internet connections. And now is it wrong that (about) seven weeks before I am to return home I feel the same way?
First off, I'm not the same person I was when I left, that's for sure. Fundamentally I keep generally the same composure and attitude, but something else has changed. It's like taking the pepperonis off a pizza and replacing them with pineapple and peppers (apparently my inability to make analogies hasn't changed). My speech is alien, I reason differently, I look weird, I have new dreams. I still can't believe that a few weeks ago when Katja Grim told me studying abroad wasn't the most important part of my education, I couldn't disagree. I know who I used to be, and that person still resides in my head and is fighting not to be overtaken by this strange adult me. Identity crisis much?
And the funny thing happens when I go home. As I've said before, it's like this separate world; nothing at all from my two homes overlaps except me. To sleep on my real bed makes me feel like a child again, and to return to my old high school makes me nervous that I'll have to explain the new half of my life to someone I used to know. Afraid, actually. That's another thing that hasn't changed about me. I still can't shout to the world who I am and where I am and what I've done. Hey, world, I'm a homosexual living happily in the fucking middle east. Take that.
Which brings me right back to why I'm insecure about returning home. Likely most of my Minnesota friends will also be home for the summer (and most of them never left. Love you, Mollapalooza <3). When I see them, will they still be the way they were when we all left? Of course they won't be. It's going to be a long, weird summer.
I remember writing something out seven weeks before I was to return to Abu Dhabi for the first time to begin the looming school year full of now-fulfilled and -unfulfilled expectations. I remember the insecurities I had about coming to join these new, incredible people who I had only communicated with thus far via fragile Internet connections. And now is it wrong that (about) seven weeks before I am to return home I feel the same way?
First off, I'm not the same person I was when I left, that's for sure. Fundamentally I keep generally the same composure and attitude, but something else has changed. It's like taking the pepperonis off a pizza and replacing them with pineapple and peppers (apparently my inability to make analogies hasn't changed). My speech is alien, I reason differently, I look weird, I have new dreams. I still can't believe that a few weeks ago when Katja Grim told me studying abroad wasn't the most important part of my education, I couldn't disagree. I know who I used to be, and that person still resides in my head and is fighting not to be overtaken by this strange adult me. Identity crisis much?
And the funny thing happens when I go home. As I've said before, it's like this separate world; nothing at all from my two homes overlaps except me. To sleep on my real bed makes me feel like a child again, and to return to my old high school makes me nervous that I'll have to explain the new half of my life to someone I used to know. Afraid, actually. That's another thing that hasn't changed about me. I still can't shout to the world who I am and where I am and what I've done. Hey, world, I'm a homosexual living happily in the fucking middle east. Take that.
Which brings me right back to why I'm insecure about returning home. Likely most of my Minnesota friends will also be home for the summer (and most of them never left. Love you, Mollapalooza <3). When I see them, will they still be the way they were when we all left? Of course they won't be. It's going to be a long, weird summer.
