The Rootless

Every time I start gathering the many small pieces of my existence to move them somewhere new, I am invaded by equally numerous worries, more or less justified and obviously, more or less superficial. I’ve been called (yet again) shallow when I found out I was going to Africa for six months and one of my first thoughts was ‘What am I going to do about my blond hair? Who is going to dye my roots?’

If there is something I already appreciate about African ladies, without having interracted with too many of them though, is their amazing volatility when it comes to hairstyles. But as much as I appreciate that, somehow I am pretty sure that taking care of thin and moody blond hair is not on their skill list. And don’t get me wrong, I had the same fear while travelling around Europe. Shout shallow again, but it seems like my hair is one of my top concerns nowadays.

So after a few jittery days I had an epiphany, maybe it’s not the end of the world if the roots stay for a while. Anyway, they are the only ones I can hold on to nowadays. Which brings me to the actual point of this tell-tale.

I’ll admit, two whole paragraphs on ‘50 shades of blond’ can be tough to digest, but [in my defense] it was just meant as a witty (?) lexicon introduction to the matter at hand. It shall be called‘The rootlessness’.

They say that persons who keep moving around for several years experience this unfortunate feeling of non-belongingness. Which of course, to compensate, has its perks, like freedom from all imaginable constraints, independence, increased adaptability and tolerance, all those amazing, beautiful people you get to meet, the pride of calling oneself ‘a (wo)man of the world’ or an ‘international kid’.

I’m honestly afraid that one of my special talents is to be an early adopter of all them ugly truths. So take this as a testimony of an international kid, after only one year of wandering the wonders of the world. A kid who does feel and appreciate the perks, for sure more than the non-belongingness. But also acknowledges that she’s become ruthlessly rootless.

Thus here's acknowledging what may be nerve wrecking for the poor devils of the world. It's the endless anxiousness of not knowing where she’ll end up next. The heart ache when he sees all of his loved ones partying together +2000 km away. The lack of a fair notion of what “home”is, as this home changes so often that it can be anywhere. A messed up value system and crazily high and unrealistic expectations. The long flights, jet lags, heavy drinking, forever new and empty houses, endless string of goodbyes and fresh beginnings. But most of all, circumstantiality in everything. Mostly with people who are walking in their life, taking a small piece of their existence, giving a new piece in return.

But hey, who can be prouder of having such a diverse and international heart? No matter how patched and rootless.