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My story is not fascinating like the ones you are accustomed to write about. I think my story repeats in every household composed of immigrants. The kids learn a new language, the one spoken by the parents disappears, and there is this thing, this loneliness, of belonging to two places at the same time and never being enough for any. I am a map ripped apart that still connects to its river, and even if it goes far in distance, always returns to its origins.
#CrónicasParaDescolonizar
Mujer con Voz ©2016
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Though it can be said that the majority of people living in similar circumstances are similar, there are only a handful that will speak about them. If it isn’t spoken or written, then who can know?
Thank you for writing about your story. I hope you will continue to in the future as well!
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I really appreciate your words, we must share our dilemmas so people can understand us more! Thank you.
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