In Between Places

An Immigrant’s Story

(Some disjointed ramblings I had today).

  • when I share some of my favourite foods with them, and make faces, or say it’s gross;
  • when they don’t even bother trying to pronounce or learn my name because “it’s too hard, and [they’re] never gonna learn it”.

…but I am Canadian!

I got my Canadian citizenship over 10 years ago, with the rest of my family. I’ve lived in Canada for most of my life, I pay taxes, I have voted in every election I was eligible to vote in, I eat my weight in poutine, I share buzzfeed articles about how hot Justin Trudeau is – what more will it take for me to be Canadian?!

The Canadian Dream

You landed in Canada, hopeful for the future, terrified about what was to come, and likely heartbroken at leaving all you knew and loved behind. You came to this country of promise, a place where refugees and immigrants are welcome, there are opportunities for everyone, and the prime minister has a six pack.

Not quite at home in Canada, and not quite at home in your country of origin, immigrants and refugees are in this weird, grey are, where we often feel like we’re ‘in between places’.

I still remember having a conversation with a family friend – a fellow Pakistani-Canadian, where I discussed how tough things could be for immigrants, and how I still sometimes felt like I didn’t belong – and she said that I should be thankful that I lived here and thankful for all the opportunities I had.

But, at the same time… is it wrong to want more?

Storyteller, Bookworm, curator of themed playlists, & tailored book recommendations. I write about books, unruly bodies, & my own lived experiences.