Coming Home

“Going back home feels heavier than leaving. You change, they don’t — and that gap hurts”.

I’ve seen that line everywhere.

Scrolling through Instagram, it feels like everyone who’s been overseas or moved away says the same thing. That coming back feels different. That you feel out of place. That there’s this clear gap between who you’ve become and the life you’ve returned to.

I expected that. I think I even convinced myself that’s exactly how it would be, like I’d come back and feel out of place in a life that used to fit me so well.

But since being back, everything is the same.

And weirdly, I still feel like me.

I really thought I would feel different. Like I’d come back and notice it straight away — in the way I think, the way I move, the way I exist. Like I’d feel like a completely new person walking into an old life.

But I don’t.

And don’t get me wrong — I have changed. A lot. Especially in my lifestyle. I’m not chaotic anymore, I’m calmer. I’m not destructive anymore. I actually think about my choices now. I take care of myself in ways I never used to. I feel things properly. I don’t run from them.

But none of that feels loud.

It’s not obvious.

It’s only when I really sit and think about who I used to be, or the way I used to handle things, that I can see how different I actually am now.

And I think that’s what’s been hard to process.

Because I thought change would feel bigger than this.

I thought I’d come back and be someone different. Not just internally, but in a way that people could see straight away. I think a part of me wanted that. I wanted people to notice. To recognise that I’d changed. Almost like I needed it to be seen for it to feel real.

Like I was trying to prove something.

But the more I think about it, the more I question that.

Why do we care so much about what other people think?

Why do we feel like our growth needs to be visible to be valid?

Why does it feel like everyone else has this clear, obvious shift… and I don’t?

And if I’m being honest, I catch myself doing it all the time.

Wondering how I come across to people. How I’m perceived. What version of me exists in other people’s heads.

I’ve even asked people before — what do you think of me? What am I like to you?

And sometimes I’ll catch myself scrolling through my own Instagram, almost like I’m trying to see myself from the outside. Like I’m trying to understand what people see when they look at me.

And I hate that I do that.

I hate how much I can get caught up in it — in trying to understand how I’m viewed instead of just being who I am.

But I also don’t think I’m the only one.

I think a lot of us do it, we just don’t say it out loud.

Because at the end of the day, we want to be understood. We want to be seen properly. Not misunderstood, not reduced to one version of ourselves, not judged off something surface-level.

So we try to control it in small ways.

We analyse. We check. We compare. We look for confirmation.

We try to see ourselves the way other people might see us — just so we can make sense of it.

But the problem is… you’ll never fully get an answer.

Because everyone sees a different version of you anyway.

So you end up chasing something that isn’t even fixed.

And maybe that’s where it all starts to feel exhausting.

Because you can keep adjusting, questioning, overthinking —

and still never feel completely certain in how you’re perceived.

And maybe the reason it feels confusing isn’t because you haven’t changed enough—

it’s because you’re still looking at yourself through other people’s eyes.

Measuring it. Checking it. Waiting for something external to reflect it back to you.

But if you took that away completely… would you still question it?

Or would you just know?

Because when you really strip it back, the only place your growth actually exists is in you. Not in how it looks. Not in how it’s perceived. Not in whether anyone else notices.

Just in the way you live now.

And maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel dramatic.

Because it’s not something you stepped into—

it’s something you’ve already settled into.

So there is no big moment. No clear divide. No obvious gap.

Just a quieter version of you, doing things differently.

And maybe that’s the part no one really talks about.