My Heart Caught Its Breath
“It feels like my heart has finally gotten to catch its breath. It’s finally had a moment to not hurt. Like the hurt is paused for two weeks. Im home.” I wrote this looking out onto the most familiar yet rare sight. With the wind sweeping past me so strongly I couldn’t hear much around me. Being a TCK is really cool. I’ve lived two very different lives in two very different countries. With the auto-cool factor I spent way too much of middle school and high school hiding my differences. I would play a game to see how long someone could get to know me without finding out about Turkey. I wasn’t ashamed... I was tired of it be “SO COOL” and then wondering if I as a person was interesting to them. It’s not like I had chosen to live in Turkey... so why did it make me so cool? I kept childhood stories and my favorite memories to myself- fearing is I talked about a road trip my parents went on someone would ask me where we were going, and I would answer “Italy”. I didn’t like the idea that someone could think I was bragging... I was just trying to relate but it always seemed to backfire. It took a long time for me to engage my story- a long time to realize Turkey hadn’t died. My friends I grew up with and friends I had said goodbye to over the years weren’t dead. It’s all alive. Turkey was still breathing, I just wasn’t there, but to ignore and hide not only fourteen years of my life, but my first fourteen foundational years because I was scared of being different, wasn’t fair. Turkey IS a part of me, not WAS. I’ve heard this practice of disassociating and adapting is common with TCKs. It’s been comforting to hear others explain they too would hide their upbringing, and wonder if a location is a their best personality trait.. If you are there. If you are a TCK out there, limiting your stories, hiding your past, and trying to be a 100% fit into a new culture, it’s okqy. It’s really really hard to know how to be okay with the fact that 100% will never be you. You’re split. It’s nothing to ashamed of, in fact, it has formed you. I felt home when I went back, and little Emily might have been disjointed she hadn’t assimilated enough to the America.