Who am I.

It’s not really a question, because I’m not asking anyone. I won’t get the answer even from myself. It’s drifting around the subject, as a young immigrant.

Everyone, at some point in their lives, ask themselves: But who am I? Usually, it starts around the teenage years, when people change their style, friend circle, and school. But then it may come somewhere in adulthood, where we might have to choose a career, partner, or just simply a place to live. It can also happen that there’re individuals that never ask such questions, and life has been just answering for them. However, I think this scenario can be left for the writers. You know, fantasy books and rom-com’s.

In my case questioning myself doesn’t come from the simple fact that I will be closer to 30′ this year than last year, or that I’m a woman in general. Neither do I stand in front of a life-changing situation that would make me question myself and my future- and past steps. It’s just me, being a young immigrant woman.

I’ve never had a problem identifying myself: young, Polish, liking good music, art, games, and sport. Some simple stuff, you know. But I was moving a lot. Since I was 18, up till I was 24 I had been moving every single year. First in Poland, then in Norway. I was just a Polish student in Norway. However, after some time it got more complicated when I became just a regular citizen: working my way through months and paying taxes. Eating food from the local supermarket, visiting local hairdressers, talking local language, and just, in general, surrounding myself with everything that I once perceived as strange, weird, and unknown.

I became this annoying type of person who forgets words in her own mother tongue. Nowadays I talk in a silly way with my parents, but luckily my mother finds that funny. Some local people from Poland probably think the way I formulate myself as strange, however. But I would like to tell them, at that moment: but what connection with Poland do I have? Besides family and a handful of friends, I’m more or less quite disconnected from that part of me. I evolved into a person who doesn’t belong anywhere but feels fine wherever she is. I don’t consider myself Norwegian, but I don’t really perceive myself as Polish in a way, that most of the Polish people would probably do. I’m just me. I’m a mix of English, Polish and Norwegian languages. Every language has a part of me, which the other doesn’t have. I will never be as funny in Norwegian as I’m in Polish, and I will never be English enough to call myself an Englishwoman.

I speak English every day with my partner who is Slovenian. If you thought that the text above is complicated, then think about how I must perceive myself through all that. One could say not everything is black and white. And I tell you, I’m very grey. I’m far from perfect, but I’m on a life-long journey to become somehow better in being myself and that will probably never come with an answer to the question of who am I. You can call me Polish, immigrant, young woman, someone, but it will never be as accurate as Agnieszka Grzegorzewska.

Thank you for reading. I hope you all take time to wonder about yourself and how you perceive this aspect. Believe me, it’s as important as facemasks and conditioners. Have a lovely Tuesday.

Author: againorway

a dreamer trying to make a living in Norway

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