Mourning who we were

The cliché is true. Once we step onto that plane, there's no going back. There's no returning to who we used to be.

When we decide to immigrate, we are driven by the desire for something new, seeking a change that only being far from home can provide. In making this choice, we leave behind everything familiar, whether good or bad. Immigrating means pursuing goals and dreams that, for some reason, couldn’t be reached in the place where we grew up.

However, beyond the excitement of seeking change, we also leave behind familiar laughter, comforting hugs, and the certainty of who we are. We give up the comfort of knowing ourselves, often because it’s too familiar. And once you've changed, even if you return to your hometown, you’ll never be the same again. This can be painful, but it’s also worth celebrating — you’ve changed forever.

Coping with these changes, whether they’re shifts in perspective or even actual physical transformations, can be painful. It’s possible to deeply desire this experience while also mourning what it has cost you. When we open ourselves to new places, cultures, and perspectives, we allow them to affect us. There’s no way to remain untouched. Our minds, our psychological resources, and our emotional landscapes will be forever transformed.

My intention isn’t to scare or romanticize, but rather to shed light on a topic that is often discussed from a different angle. There is a dimension of loss that extends beyond missing birthdays: the loss of who we were. This can be painful, even when living in a place that offers so many opportunities. Perhaps before, we were more introverted, with time to enjoy solitude; or maybe we were more extroverted, surrounded by friends and opportunities to share moments.

Feeling happy about the decision to immigrate doesn’t need to be an isolated emotion. Often, it’s accompanied by guilt, sadness, and frustration over the loss of our old routine. Have you experienced these emotions during your immigration process? Have you found a space to explore them?

What I propose is that these feelings are part of the process and won’t simply disappear, especially if denied. In an analytical process, we explore the nuances and ambivalent feelings that are often not welcomed, not even by ourselves. It’s in that space where we can mourn who we were, while also recognizing what we’ve gained in return.