Home...Sweet "Home"

Home...it's a complex yet simple concept, isn't it? I mean, on one hand, home is a physical building you spend most of your time in, store your things, and shower and sleep. It is your safe space, your sanctuary. It's where you share game nights with your family, dinner parties with friends, and intimate moments with your significant other.

On the other hand... home is also a state of mind. It is being able to feel comfortable in your element. It's feeling like you belong, that you are wanted, and that you fit in. From the very beginning, I never had that luxury. I had to learn how to feel like home growing up in my hometown. I was an adopted, Asian non-Mormon little girl in a small town of about 1200 residents in rural northern Utah.

Let me take you back to the year 1991, I was 5 years old. I was getting ready to attend my first day of kindergarten, and I was super excited. I just got done with pre-school, and I had a blast playing with other kids and learning shapes, colors, and counting. I was ready for the journey for my first real day of school!

So, after a couple of days, my classmates noticed some things I never noticed before. One of the other little girls asked me why my skin is a different color than my parents'. Another one asked about my eyes and why they are so slanted. I was being asked questions I have never even thought about.

I asked my mom the same questions, and she explained to me that I was born in Korea and that I was adopted. She told me that my birth mother was really young, and she needed help with giving me a better life. My mom also explained that she always thought Asian girls are some of the most beautiful, which is why she chose to adopt from Korea.

From that day forward, I went through a lot of torture from my classmates. Kids are mean, and they had no problem pointing out that my eyes were different. They would walk around me in circles and slanting their eyes back on purpose. I would come home crying, asking "Why can't I just have blonde hair, white skin, and "normal" eyes like everyone else?!"

I was also getting judged from other kids' parents in my neighborhood, because we weren't Mormon. Parents thought I was a bad influence on their children. I also didn't have true friends at my church either, since most of the kids were home-schooled, and the parents thought I was too "rowdy".

It seems like everywhere I turned to find acceptance in my hometown, I wasn't finding it. One day, though, it just clicked that the reasons why I was getting made fun of a lot were because they were either jealous or scared of those who are different. Also, people tend to be threatened by those who are happy and sure of themselves.

I feel like even though I was always ridiculed for being "different" from others, I have never been sad or unsure of myself. From the very beginning, my mom did a very good job to make sure I knew who I was. She taught me to never be ashamed of who I am, and my dad taught me not to take people who act this way too seriously.

I never felt that I was "home" when I was in grade school. Despite the feelings I had, though, the older I got, the more I miraculously embraced who I was instead of alienating myself. What I learned throughout my life is that no matter what your situation is, never abandon who you are, no matter how many people want to talk down on you for being "too different." If you can do that, you will forever be home.