Being Back Feels Weird...

...Even after one fucking year!!!

  It is my first post about how I'm dealing with my decision to come back to Brazil after leaving the city of my dreams, A.K.A , NYC but I intend to write some more in the future. It is the original purpose of the blog and I hope it is relatable to those who have ever felt they were supposed to be somewhere else or felt they don't identify with their cultural background... For the past few weeks I've been struggling a lot with my feelings about being where I am now. For starters I want to point out I don't regret being back however there is a part of me that always knew one day I'd feel misplaced and even though I tried to distract myself working hard, mediating and living an exciting life this day has come and it is freaking the hell out of me.

  If you've been around for a while you might remember that last year I moved to New York City with no intentions to come back whatsoever. But I did. For a lot of reasons which one day I'll write about. The second time around was supposed to be different and it was. I did EVERYTHING I planned on doing, for instance, I got a job, I had a roof over my head and I was meeting new people and everything felt right until it all went to hell. I lost my job, I fought with my friend who was hosting me and my love life wasn't interesting at all. Hence, when I came back I thought I'd be returning to the arms of my good friends and family. Because they could offer me more than that place could or so as I thought.

  I did not feel safe or protected by any means and one part of me knew I was doing the right thing but another (big) part of me knew I would miss that place big time, I had made important plans for my life there after all, I had saved up every coin I made for two years straight prior to my arrival there in the early February 2018, I sacrificed a whole lot to see my goal becoming a reality but I couldn't take it anymore, I got overwhelmed and reaching the point of burnout was something I couldn't recover from. It just confirmed what I've heard before that doing the right thing isn't always easy, in fact, it is often the hardest thing to do. 

  For the first months after my comeback I tried to stay as positive and engaged as much as one could given the circumstances and I succeeded, for a while. I didn't feel that urge to go back to NYC as I thought I would which was pretty confusing but I kept telling myself "I'm here because I made that choice and now I'm safe, protected and happy" but the truth is I was happy there too and I only made the choice to comeback because I was forced to by everything that was jeopardizing my life there so now It feels appropriate to ask myself, have I really chosen this or have I been deprived of another choice? Either way, I'm here and I can only look forward. There's no point in reminiscing now.

Is there?

  I've never felt the way that I feel now and I don't mean it as a bad thing. I realize that since I came back I had this greed to rebuild my life, to get back on track which is great. I'm closer to my friends&family than ever before and I've accomplished big things like graduating since I got back and I intend to keep living with the feeling of misplacement buried down deep. One thing is for sure though,  I can always save up some money and give it another try and if nothing I can always get the lesson from the fact that sometimes things just don't work out the way we expected and what seemed to be the "plan b" turns out to be "plan a" and it's all good.