Dear Diary

I do not do New Years resolutions but I do a lot of periodic reflections, which are often triggered around milestones.

The other day I made a diary entry with some random realizations that came to mind------

I have now spent my 4th Christmas in NZ (and just experienced my 4th New Years Day). 

I am finding it strange to digest. As Randy and I watched some videos of the kids from years ago, the feeling that I had lived a whole other life or lifetime before this life came over me. 

We owned our dream house in Arizona for 6 years, now we have been in NZ for over half that time.

Kai has spent more time in school here in NZ than in the US.

I have no desire to return to the US, barely even for a visit.

That the place I met my husband, became a doctor and a mother three times over would fail to leave me with pleasant feelings when I think of it in isolation is horrible, isn't it? 

The sense of serenity and security and safety and peace my body experiences here in New Zealand is something I have no desire to unnecessarily remove myself from. With so many assaults on humanity occurring in the US, the thought of living there or being there for an extended period of time disgusts me.

My dad and stepmother are here, visiting New Zealand for the first time. I told them the other day that my childhood ended when I arrived on US soil at age 10. My dad didn't dare disagree.

When I landed in Los Angeles en route to Arizona for my quick surprise visit to see family in April 2024 for my sister's nursing school graduation, it took all of 15 minutes for me to feel the "vibes" of racism and the weight of microaggressions that I had come to live with all those years. Between the airport staff and the restaurant hostess, I remember thinking to myself, I am definitely back in the US.

I hear others who've moved from the US speak about how they yearn to visit America the land, not just the family that they left. I love my family and take advantage of every opportunity to see them (for instance, I am going to the US for a Laparoscopy Course this year in a state that will allow me to visit one of my sisters and her family) but I would be content with never seeing America again if they weren't over there. I still yearn to visit Trinidad, the land, over 30 years since I left, yet never have I yearned for the US.

When a place is stained with trauma, it cannot be seen as separate from that.

I certainly would not want to work as an OBGYN in the US ever again. I maintain my licenses because I am pragmatic, and life has taught me to never say never.

When I wonder if something is callous in me that I would be so quick to not look back after a few years away, I remind myself of how sacred and important peace is. So many Americans rationalize racial trauma, the strain caused by capitalism and the lack of autonomy over your life and your work as an integral part of life that cannot be changed. When you understand that most of that is not necessary, and you remove yourself from it, it seems insane to think longingly about what you dealt with before or even want to return to anything that reminded you of that existence.

So, call me cold and call me unpatriotic- to that I say, there has never been any reason for America to expect patriotism of me or any other Black woman, and my coldness is only a reflection of the level of warmth I received from a system that was constantly working toward my physical and psychological demise. Anyone who thinks these words are an overexaggeration have not been paying enough attention.

"For me, my home is a peaceful place where I can rest, and it gives me back energy" Fabiola Gianotti

"A peaceful home is as sacred a place as any chapel or cathedral" Bil Keane