Once you move overseas, you slowly, without noticing at first, start to develop a new struggle around your identity that you didn’t know existed before. Before your move, you had simple answers to questions such as “Where are you from?” and “Where’s home for you?”

Each time I cross a border, I feel the push and pull in my body, a cacophony of competing desires. And always there are choices to make: what to assimilate, what to reject. Is it true that we are always, as migrants, and the children of migrants, attempting to choose what my parents call "the best of both worlds"? Or is it possible to transcend—no,

Now… they resolved to go back to their own land; because the years have a kind of emptiness when we spend too many of them on a foreign shore. But… if we do return, we find that the native air has lost its invigorating quality, and that life has shifted its reality to the spot where we have deemed ourselves only temporary residents. Thus, between