A Rilakkuma bear plush is pictured slumped against the wall; I felt similarly to this image while writing this post.
a thought i scribbled in my notebook this week:
“i’ve always lived in homes that never quite feel like ‘home”
we’ve mentioned home a lot this week with the project proposal date approaching us and it’s been making me think of how disconnected i feel sometimes from mentions of home
maybe it’s my depression
maybe it’s because of abandonment issues
maybe it’s because of those diasporic feelings of longing for the home(s) i was never allowed to go to
maybe it’s because i’m multiracial and i don’t feel like i belong anywhere because no one completely understands what i’m going through, and i’m forced to learn about my identities in isolation of each other because multiplicity doesn’t exist for many folks quite yet
like even this space doesn’t feel right for me most of the time but i’m going to stick it out because i want to learn more about this part of my identity and expand my knowledge on asian american history
how i’m feeling might change in the future but for now i’ll try to look back and remember instances of feeling at home and feeling like myself in my own body/identities again to prepare myself for writing up my proposal. wish me luck