In life, some aspects of our identity cannot be changed.

Whatever has been an element of history will remain a part of our history.

The family we are born into, the nationality we were born with, the place we were born in, etc.

Whatever one does, none of this will change.

As I grew up, my family changed. I moved to another place, divorces, and marriages continued to shape my family, and I changed nationality.

None of these changed who I am, but all of them impacted how I relate to others, and how I feel about myself under differing circumstances. All of them also impact my ability to describe who I am.

When I look at my family it is striking how many of the people, I consider my family have no biological or legal family ties with me. Everybody I’m trying to tell more about my family quickly finds it complicated. Our cultural norms didn’t provide me with the adequate vocabulary to explain things and remain true to my story.

When I think about my nationality, it’s striking how that change contributed to a sense of not being able to fully belong to either country. That had already been true when I moved from one country to the other. But changing nationality added to that sense. It was a choice I made to adapt to the principles in my country of residence. It changed how I was integrated, but I hadn’t expected how it would feel beyond the aspects I had considered. Obtaining my main objective happened, but it didn’t materialize as I thought it would.

The only real choice I have is to accept the situation as it is instead of fighting it.

It’s where continuous change will come from.

Once I do, I can learn to live with everything of who I am that is different from how others expect it to be.

Being different means being separate.

It’s being an outsider to the norms of the group I belong to.

It’s also what makes me unique.