My Personal Journey of Home

When I was 7, living in Hong Kong, I was happily playing. I overheard from my parents that our home was sold. My heart was heavy as a stone. I desperately begged my parents to let us stay. I felt desperate, like a fish struggling to breathe on land. Hong Kong was where I lived since birth, with plenty of precious memories. Soon, we moved to a flat near the sea. It took time, but I eventually found comfort there, jogging by the water and walking in the nearby plaza. Those simple activities gave me a sense of freedom and home. However, after a year, I overheard another conversation — this time it was about moving to Canada. I was devastated. That night, I couldn’t sleep, my mind was a restless storm. My mum had traveled to Ontario to find a house and car, and that made me more anxious. I was masking my emotions, unsure how to feel in the unfamiliar situation. A real home shouldn’t make you feel that way. Eventually, it was my turn to leave Hong Kong. I felt anxious, like walking on a tightrope, carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. My heart felt shattered, like a glass vase breaking into pieces. But there was also curiosity, like a plane soaring towards the unknown skies. I wondered if Canada would be a hot, bustling place. After the flight, I reunited with my mum, I was overjoyed! My smile could have reached the stars, but I was also cautious, testing the waters. Canada is different from Hong Kong—its Western culture felt foreign to me. After 3 years, I adjusted to life in Canada. Canada is my new home now, and I learned "In home, you don’t need to fit in, you belong."