Leaving a land of dreams leaves an empty place in your heart. A place you have to fill…
A very good friend of mine once said: if the world you desire was not created you have to make your own. I failed to understand his words in the past. Now they are clear: it’s not about make-believe. It’s about fighting for your dreams, believing. Not giving up.
It took time to overcome the pain, the loneliness… The language was not hard to learn, but it lacked a certain melodic flow that makes Romanian so special. I didn’t need it to communicate at work, I just used it when going shopping and in similar situations. I spent my time more with foreigners, exiled as I was, in the Latino community, which was the closest to my heart (and my Latin origins). I spent my time with the Romanian friends and I spent my time online, with you.
When those in exile complain about their hard time adapting to new realities they do it because, no matter how well they live, there’ll always be an empty place in their hearts. And this place is larger then words can tell.
Sure, you live well in your new habitat, you are successful and you do make new friends in your new world. But these new people will never understand your essence. They’ll never be able to capture your heart, because… well, because, unlike you the ones who come here often to read my thoughts and share my dreams, these people in the real world do not read your blog, do not “listen.”
They are there, with their worries and their rush. They are there and some are completely unable to understand why you give a gift (it happened to me to give someone a necklace and get instead of a “thank you” a full list of “whys” and other such questions), why you go every Friday to the same bar, listen to the same music, dance with the same people…
It’s all part of a routine, of a play if you want, where the actor is the exiled person and the spectators didn’t show up to watch the play. You are always alone, and yet…
It’s a paradox to live in a foreign country. It’s a paradox to adapt to a new culture while they force you to give up yours. No, they don’t do it directly. They are subtle… like asking you why you gave a gift. But the thing is… that cannot change who I am. Not anymore. I learned to create my own world. Like my friend once said… I share my dreams, I give my gifts, I create. This is how I face my challenge.
Does it work? Yes, it does. I cannot give you examples from the real world, but I can show you people who shine and make me shine, through they love, warmth and kindness. Isn’t it amazing to see a Pearl in an ocean of incertitude? Do you really need to see her face to know how she smiles? And what do you say to such proof of friendship and love, support, respect and consideration? Thank you Pearl, for being there, when I was down! Thank you for being my friend.
And what can you say about this young Romanian woman who brings my heart home? Thank you, Alina!
So, to make a long story short: I face my challenge, being myself. Believing. Dreaming, hoping and praying. “Please God, make me myrtle and keep me on your altars till the end of time.”
This entry is my second answer to the writing project started by Yvonne Russell at Grow Your Writing Business and Laura Spencer at Writing Thoughts.
UPDATE:
Another tear burns my cheek with blissful joy: an online birthday card from Maryannaville… Thank you, Saboma!
Thanks for sharing your heart and your dreams, Mig. And happy birthday!
Thank you, Lillie. Sharing our hearts is the best way to live.
Beautiful post my friend…and also…
Haaaappppyyy birthdayyyy to youuuuu
Haaappppyyyy birthdayyyyy to youuuuu
Haaappppyyyy birthdayyyyy deaaaarrrr Miiiiiiggggg
Haaappppyyyyy birthdayyyy to youuuuuuu…and many moreeee;)
HAVE A WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL FRIEND!!!
Maria
Happy name day, Maria…
Happy name day, Maria!
Happy name day, sweet Maria…
May your light always shine!
that was really a nice post
Its my honor to have you as my friend Mig… of course we’ll share dreams and laugh at the weirdness of life together 
we all have those moments…but remember those aliens wishing you happy birthday and laugh out loud each day before going to sleep
So now you kind of have an idea about how Maryannaville came into being, Mig. I’ve been posting about it in bits and pieces because new revelations arrive on a daily basis regarding the world I have created. And yes, no matter how many folks are around us, we will always be alone. I’ve discovered that the key to that aloneness is to become good friends with the one we see in the mirror on a daily basis. Today, I am my very best friend and it is me whom I sleep with at night. Everyone and anything I encounter in between waking and retiring is a bonus.
It’s been a long journey and at times it has been a bit wearing, yet, overall, in the bigger picture of matters, it has been well worth the tears and the struggles that achieving the ability to let go and to enjoy what fully living is about. Take no prisoners, kiddo. Doing so is only added weight to carry for/in/towards the rest of the journey. Keep your backpack light as much as possible and only with necessary things in it to continue upward, forward, and onward.
*Hugs*
Happy birthday!
This is a very poignant essay. It recalled for me a time I lived in Ireland. On Sundays I felt such pangs of homesickness. I would see the smoke rising from chimneys, smell the hot meals cooking, and see nobody out and about except for a few old men bowling up the back roads. I had no family to call my own with whom to share a meal. I was between places always. I was happy to come home and fill that void, though I have never stopped missing my adopted home.
Thanks for sharing this touching experience. Well put!
hehehe love u
Mig,
Thank you so much for sharing your heart with us. It’s was such an intimate part of your heart to share. I, too, understand the meaning of alone. When I was 17, my family turned me away for no reason at all. I went on with my life, got my degree, and tried to find some amount of success. But the home I grew up in was all I ever knew. I was sheltered like very few are in this day and age, and for years my heart ached for the things that comforted me as a child. It was the land, really, not my hard-hearted family. It was the sweet smell of strawberries in the summer, and the birds that cheerfully awoke me in the morning. Little things like that were precious to me. I had nobody to turn to. No mom or dad to help me make grown up decisions, or to turn to when I needed a hug. It’s taken years for me to find new comfort, but I have in my husband and my beautiful girls. Even now, I feel sadness for that missing element of my life, and theirs as well. They don’t know their granddaughters, or know of the baby yet to come.
I think, to a certain degree, I do understand your “essence.” It’s beautiful. You are beautiful, and I believe I am searching for the answers you have found. That ability to dream and share, and give others hope and dreams. Yes, Mig, you truly unleash the power of dreams in all of us! Thank you for sharing with us.
Beautiful words from a beautiful person. Thanks for sharing these heartfelt words about your essence and journey. This is a powerful story and beautifully told. Happy birthday! Enjoy!
Mig, even when you’re complaining, you do it with a lot of hope. I know it is hard to live in a different country, I’ve heard it from more of my friends. But you seem to always handle everything with huge hopes and a warm smile on your face. I love it how you always find the strength to follow your dreams, even when the road gets harder and harder. I wish I could be more like you at times
Wow… so many messages and I was not online in time to answer each and any of them. Then, at work… there was so much to do today, as I took tomorrow off, to spend more time with my mother (she is visiting now)…
@Saboma: yes, the one in the mirror is very dear to me too. And she is my best friend, but you know how friends are… sometimes not enough to fill a void. Sometimes you need more. I do. My mother being here is enough these days. I am happy, complete. Because I am at work most of the time my wonderful boyfriend tries to entertain her. And… can you imagine how they communicate when she cannot speak German (but understands a bit) and he knows no word in Romanian? He he!
@Oh, Sandy! Yes… even the scents hurt when you are in exile. How true! The food doesn’t taste the same. We are under the same sky and yet how different the sunrise…
@ Lisa: you do understand. You, and all the other wonderful people that showed me their friendship and support today, through their comments and private messages, do understand my essence. Sometimes better than those who are near…
@ Yvonne: well, I enjoyed being a part of your writing project. You know that when it comes to memes I always try twist them and bring some value to the game. This time I gave you my heart.
@ Alina: we are more alike than you think. You are just younger.
Well, I guess right now I could really use talking to you, to give me perspective, and part of your strength to keep smiling