02/21/2026
๐๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ญ โผ๏ธ - ๐๐๐๐ ๐
๐ซ New me - fond of writing and reading ๐ sharing few memories from childhood ๐ซ
โจ๐๐ก๐๐ญ ๐๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ - ๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ข๐๐ ๐ฐ๐ ๐ฅ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฅบ๐โจ
We leave our countries in search of education, opportunity, stability and growth โ๏ธ๐๐ผ. We tell ourselves itโs temporary. Weโll study, work, and return. But slowly the new world wraps itself around us. We adapt. We start to like the independence, the convenience, the pace. Eventually we become so used to the comfort and structure of life here that โsettling abroadโ quietly becomes the default ๐กโจ.
And without even realizing it, the life we built for two decades, our childhood memories, our families, our cousins, our neighbors who felt like extended family ๐จโ๐ฉโ๐งโ๐ฆโค๏ธ, all begin to fade into the background.
But those moments, the ones that truly shaped us, can never be relived or purchased with all the money we earn here ๐ฐ.
Nothing compares to the childhood where we biked to the store because mom asked us to buy something ๐ฒ๐, dragging a friend along just so we could talk endlessly, losing track of time until the fear of getting scolded pulled us back home ๐
, only to repeat it all over again the next day.
School was not tiring back then. It was excitement ๐โจ. It was sitting with your best friend, sharing lunch boxes ๐ฑ, secretly swapping seats when the teacher wasnโt looking ๐คซ, and picking up conversations exactly where you left off the day before.
Vacations did not need passports or itineraries ๐ด. Naniโs house or Mamaโs house was enough to feel like the best place on earth ๐ โค๏ธ. A home where cousins, uncles, and aunts gathered under one roof, cooking together ๐ฒ, eating together ๐ฝ๏ธ, cleaning together. Where cousin fights were sweet, harmless, and full of memories, not ego, jealousy, or long-held resentment ๐.
Where every mami or masi treated you like their own child, sometimes even more than your own mother would ๐ค.
Four or five families under one roof. Chaos everywhere. Laughter ๐, naughtiness, arguments, reconciliation, all without a single parent interfering. They simply believed, โTheyโll sort it out amongst themselves.โ And somehow, we always did. Those lessons still guide us when our own kids argue today ๐ถ๐ฌ.
Festivals felt like the whole world was celebrating with you ๐โจ. Streets, homes, balconies, everything was decorated ๐ช๐ธ. Neighbors were like second families. You didnโt need to call or ask permission before entering their house ๐ช. You simply walked in, ate whatever was cooking ๐, and felt completely at home.
Sweets and snacks were made together ๐ฌ, one house per day, the whole lane participating in the tradition.
Rain or shine โ๏ธ๐ง๏ธ, joy or sorrow, our mothers always had someone to share life with ๐ค. Someone who understood, supported, protected, and loved her without needing an invitation ๐ค.
Holidays never felt like logistical nightmares of โplaydatesโ and โkeeping kids busy.โ Kids simply ran downstairs ๐โโ๏ธ, knocked on any door, and came back only when the streetlights turned on ๐.
I could go on and on, because that life was not just a phase. It was a culture. A rhythm. A feeling. A community โค๏ธ.
And somewhere along the way, in chasing success ๐๐ผ, we traded it for a quieter, more individual life, one that often leaves us wondering what the true cost of progress really is.
It is not a regret I feel. It is a gratitude. Those memories did not disappear; they shaped us, quietly guiding the life we build today.
P.S. Polished with AI assistance.
Picture: AI generated from my Original Old picture
