Eternally an Immigrant

Sometimes I think I have a tendency to do things on autopilot, without thinking too deeply. Something perhaps a bit cold. People looking from the outside might think I dive headfirst, full of emotions, but honestly, I jump into the dark more with a “let’s just live and see what happens” attitude than with overwhelming passion. But what does that have to do with the theme of this text? Well, the fact that I’m about to celebrate 10 years of moving to another country — of immigrating — fits precisely into this category of “let’s see what happens” without overthinking. Reckless? Maybe.

My immigration wasn’t because I wanted to live in another country or because I wanted to work abroad. It wasn’t because I needed to leave a place with no opportunities, and it certainly wasn’t about seeking so-called “freedom.” I immigrated to live a love that was just beginning to bloom, to see where it would lead. And so, we return to the first paragraph. Reckless? Maybe.

I believe that when you immigrate for a reason like this, you’re left with the feeling that you’ll always be an immigrant. That my heart, my history, my culture, my roots, my language, my accent, and my soul will always belong to my home country. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been away, what documents I have, or how much I adapt. Once an immigrant, forever an immigrant.

Yes, that's me!

With each passing year in the United States, I feel more Brazilian. And with each year here, I miss my homeland even more. I don’t want to get into the debate about which place is better. Not at all, because every country has its own issues, its little things to complain about. Oh, of course, they had to be Brazilian, American, Swedish, Jamaican, Polish, Korean... and so on.

Will this feeling of not belonging ever go away? I think probably not. And honestly, I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. I just keep moving forward, feeling like an eternal immigrant.

Goodbyes

I am wrapping up this summer with a series of goodbyes. Goodbye to the sunny days—though they might return unexpectedly, brightening our hearts once more. Farewell to fresh produce, especially the juiciest blackberries from the farm near my house that were available throughout July and August. Saying goodbye to longer days and the chance to spend more time outdoors. A "see you soon" to the film I just finished shooting. Goodbye to dear ones, including my aunt, who unexpectedly left us at the beginning of September.

If you find goodbyes difficult, consider reframing them. I’ve never been a nostalgic person; I believe there's a time for everything. When I say goodbye, I also sense a welcoming, even if it’s a hard "see you soon." It’s a welcome to new opportunities and doors that open as others close. Then, we refresh, restart, or continue from where we left off. Say goodbye and, right after, welcome!

Welcome to the life that continues, to the cycle that begins anew, and to the ongoing journey. Goodbyes are important—they teach us this lesson. And if you need to cry, do it! Let your soul and heart be cleansed and open them to new welcomes. Let them come!