Separation anxiety and the wandering me.

My professor had us draw a chart describing an experience of separation we’ve gone in childhood, teenage years, as an adult and also one that we expect in the next five or so years.

Oddly, the easiest phase to fill out was the last; it came to me immediately and it’s a wonder that little introspection exercise can bring all that out in you. What I wrote was the possibility of separation from my American life and my Israeli life, resulting in forever feeling like I don’t belong.

What I mean by that is, I do expect that there will come a time – if it hasn’t already – where it’s a no-looking-back point for me: I won’t fit in my old American culture, while never fully fitting in to my Israeli culture.

I have a history of feeling like I don’t belong, and yes, it might be self-perpetuating but this is a very large and real and tangible situation that I’m fairly sure I’ve already started to realize.

And what happens when you can’t turn back? Where does all that culture and emotion and love and hate and history go? Do you keep it tucked away as stories for your grand kids? Do you wash it off and look ahead, lonely forever?

For some reason, I’m ok with this. It’s possible that my American and Israeli lives don’t 100% suit me and there is something else out there, something that exists in another place or maybe just in my own mind.

When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.





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