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I don’t belong!

That’s the first thing that comes to my mind every time I run into a challenging situation, leading to the feeling that I am not where I want to be. I am supposed to be somewhere else … if I only knew where that “somewhere else” is.

Anywhere but here is not just a cliche for me. It is my reality. I live with it from dawn till dusk. And whenever I am in that “someplace else” I longed to be, it starts all over again. I don’t belong here, I think. I belong to the places I am yet to be. I’ve spent an entire lifetime living this way.

Is this home? Do I belong? These are my go-to questions when I am getting ready to leave or wanting to leave.

I was sitting with those questions again recently, and suddenly I had a “am I asking the right questions?” moment. I remember long ago someone telling me that the answers are not the most important; asking the right questions is.

Am I asking the right questions?

I wasted so much time trying to find the evidence why a place I chose is not “home” or finding every single reason why I don’t belong.

What if I look for the ways in which I belong, and home is simply where I lay my head on my pillow?

How different would my life be?


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