On Leaving Home (Again)

I am, and have been, a product of circumstance. I would like to believe that I had some choice, but I go where the wind blows and with this, there are no predictions. With that in mind, I ought to remind myself that I cannot have the privilege of resentment, as I move on - once more - down a different path in my life.

It has been a decade since I left the country that I grew up in. And it has been two years since I have left a part of Australia that will always mean so much to me. I am lucky to have many homes, each punctuated by the existence of families that I love dearly. 

In a week, I will leave again. This time to start a career that I choose to believe has chosen me. I am immersed in fear, excitement and regret; often it leaves me confused. Perth, my home, has given me incredible memories filled with wonderful people. I can only hope that I have touched their lives as much as they have enriched mine.

I do not know when the dust will settle, when my life will comfortably stay put but never stagnant. Till then, I must wilfully move on, as if it will not matter, as if it has never mattered, that my future will always be dictated by what the present brings.