Dreaming in two worlds

In my dream I was suddenly transported back to a very specific moment in high school: it was on a Saturday during the lunch break at my drawing class all the way on the opposite end of the city. The noodles I slurped from that 24hr Lawson were chewy, but that wasn’t where my attention lay. I was ecstatic about dating her, feeling gratified with the art I created, and being awestruck by a new found appreciation towards the city, one that I can finally call mine. Shanghai, with its streets containing mystery, history, and wonder, gradually uncovers itself as I walked the grid and respired its air. The book I was reading was about two souls falling in love and how everything around them finally made sense. I felt the exact same way.

All throughout my upbringing, I couldn't wait to move back to the US, but little did I know things would change drastically after moving here. Looking back, I didn’t realize how much of an unapologetic sense of freedom I felt, and how I wouldn’t fully experience that again after relocating. I hadn't acquired a softness in my thinking, a cushioning that would later help me adapt and survive in America. You might think, of course the daughter of expats has unearned confidence while living on post-colonial lands. I was a beneficiary of a system rooted in internalized and externalized racism, economic class dynamics, and colonialism, though I didn't really care. I was ready to take on the world.

...continued in part II ->