Home isn’t always a place is it?

It has been four years since the last time that I got to hug my brothers;

since I got to visit my friends’ homes and celebrate, cry, laugh and just be with them;

since I got to stay at our summer cabin with my 90 year old grandmother;

since I got to listen my dad snore on the sofa and watch my mom always doing million things at once.

I never used to be homesick. Until my freedom to travel back home was taken away from me. Freedom to visit what I call my home: my friends, family, Finnish nature and culture.

First year was my own mistake; I thought that when work says “no you can’t have a holiday at this stage” can be reason enough for me to not visit my family and friends. Well, I learned my lesson.

Second year my visa got denied. My lawyer said no to traveling home.

Third year we were in a lockdown for Covid19. Australia closed its borders.

And ever since then they have been closed.

Today I have been applying seven times for the permission to travel out of this country, which all have been denied. Not exempt.

I thought my skin would be tougher by now, but this one clearly gets under my skin. All I want is to go home to my people.

Maybe, hopefully, sometime soon.

xx

Lotta