Anyone who knows me, knows I have built my life here in India. But in my heart and soul, I hear the sound of home calling. It’s not always easy, being torn between two contrasting cultures.
The other day, a reader of my blog told me I was trying too hard to be an Indian wife. I couldn’t disagree, I couldn’t be offended by it. For a long time, I had been trying to squeeze myself into Indian culture. I was willing to sacrifice my happiness and sense of peace to do that. These past few months have been more relaxing and freeing for me. More peaceful. I have shed layers of culture, both American and Indian, that have not brought me purpose or happiness.
People always ask me, “Don’t you miss your home? Don’t you miss your family?” Of course I do. I miss how free it feels to be home. I can walk the streets with no pressure of standing out. I can wear what makes me comfortable, rather than worry about whether or not people will like what I’m wearing. I can eat the food I miss so much. I can have face to face conversations with people I have missed so much. I can understand everything going on around me, and I never feel isolated.
So I’m going home. I leave in March. I’ll miss my husband so much… The visa system is not kind… But I will return, not long after.
Photo courtesy of my mom.