غربة

Coming to Utah I was filled with emotions but out of that pool of emotions, excitement was definitely not one of them. Not because there was nothing I was looking forward to, but because fear overrode anything I could potentially enjoy. I was scared of losing my identity and who I was. When you grow up in an Arabic community the culture is in every part of your life– it is embedded and engraved in every part of who you are and it dictates how many aspects of your life play out. It creates a safe haven for you and you grow comfortable in it and you feel like you fit in and that you are a part of something bigger than yourself.

And then suddenly I felt like I lost all of that, and for the first 4 months, I was trying to look for something that would make leaving all of that worth it. Part of who I was was a sister, a daughter, an Arab, and a practicing Muslim woman, and then I came to a place where I felt like I couldn’t be that. I tried so hard to find myself in a place where I never saw myself being and in a place that I internally rejected because adapting any part of the “American culture” or loving anyone from America felt like a betrayal. A betrayal to the people I left at home and to Jordan itself. I was terrified of liking living in America more than I would in my homeland.

I didn’t have family here and knew absolutely no one and I was so scared of needing someone that I tried to do it all on my own. I never asked for help, and I never gave myself the chance to take my situation as an excuse. Even though my situation was the reason for my poor mental health at the time. I just tried to push myself harder instead of getting to the root of the issue. There was an emptiness that I tried so hard to fill that I lost sight of my purpose and the point I came here.

I know this is very gloomy, but that’s how the first year at BYU played out and it took me so much effort and so much time to feel like myself again. To feel that it's okay to change and that my family will be there when I come back. I had to learn so many things on my own but I also had to learn how to let people help me. And how to allow myself to feel sadness and regret and longing, but I also had to let myself feel pride and selfishness and curiosity and love and affection. 

When I go back home for the summer each year I remember why I am doing what I’m doing. It’s odd to say but I get a better sense of reality. When I go back home, I understand what I want in life and I understand what I have to do to get there. I’ll always be home-bound, my endgame is to go back to Jordan and live a full life and die there. But to get to that place I have to be here, in America, first.

I eventually found constants in my life that reminded me of who I was and where I came from. No one can strip my identity away from me and no one can strip away the love and loyalty that I have for my home and people. But my heart is also big enough to feel love and loyalty for this place and its people. I am grateful for the opportunities I got and the character it allowed me to build and I wouldn’t change a thing—it’s the reason I am who I am today. I still have a long way to go, but every step I take will be with God and the people I love. So that way I’m always home.