When Home Becomes a Holiday

There was a time when going home meant going back to normal life.

You knew exactly which street to take, which shop to visit, which relative to meet first and where your favorite food was available.

You didn't need a holiday itinerary.

Home was simply home.

But after spending years abroad, something quietly changes.

Now, going home requires planning.

You check flight prices, coordinate annual leave, arrange airport pickups, decide how many days to spend with each side of the family and try to fit several months of missed moments into a two- or three-week visit.

You arrive with excitement.

Relatives come to meet you. Old friends arrange gatherings. Someone invites you for dinner. Someone else insists that you must visit before leaving.

For a few days, it feels wonderful.

You enjoy familiar food, hear familiar voices and revisit places connected to your childhood.

But holidays are short.

Before you have properly settled in, someone is already asking about your return flight.

And suddenly, you find yourself counting the remaining days.

Five days left.

Three days left.

Tomorrow is the last day.

You promise everyone that you will come again soon.

Then you return to the country where you work.

Your children go back to school. You return to your office. The usual routine begins again.

And home becomes a collection of photographs, phone calls and memories until the next visit.

There is another change that many expats experience but rarely discuss.

You begin to feel like a visitor in your own country.

The roads have changed. New buildings have appeared. Old restaurants have closed. Friends have developed different routines, and family gatherings no longer happen as naturally as they once did.

You still love the place.

But you are no longer part of its everyday rhythm.

At the same time, the country where you live has become deeply connected to your daily life.

Your children have friends there. Their school memories are there. Your work, home, shopping, healthcare and social circle are there.

You know the roads better than some people who were born there.

You understand the systems, the routines and the lifestyle.

Yet when someone asks, "Where is home?", you sometimes hesitate.

You might say your home country because that is where you were born.

You might mention the country where you currently live because that is where your family spends most of its time.

Or you might simply say, "Both."

And perhaps both answers are correct.

But this feeling becomes more complicated as parents grow older.

A visit that once felt like a holiday starts feeling like an important responsibility. You notice changes that you may not have noticed before.

Your parents walk a little slower. They repeat certain stories. They need more help with things they once managed easily.

You realise that the time you spend with them is no longer unlimited.

And suddenly, returning home is not just about enjoying familiar food or meeting friends.

It is about being present.

You begin to wonder whether you have spent too many years postponing things that cannot be postponed forever.

Perhaps you should visit more often. Perhaps you should consider moving back one day. Perhaps you should bring your parents closer if circumstances allow.

But then reality enters the conversation.

Your children have their education. Your career is established abroad. Your financial commitments are here. Your family has become accustomed to a lifestyle that may not be easy to recreate elsewhere.

Moving back is not a simple decision.

Staying is not always an easy decision either.

And somewhere between these two places, you find yourself belonging to both and sometimes feeling completely at home in neither.

Maybe that is the most complicated part of expat life.

You spend years trying to build a better future, only to discover that the meaning of home has changed while you were busy building it.

And now, a much bigger question stands in front of you.

If you cannot return to the life you left behind, and you cannot be certain how long the life you have built will continue, then where should you finally choose to belong?

One last episode remains. Perhaps it is time to stop postponing that question.

To be continued...