America is the o­nly place that will make all your dreams come true,” my mother told me before I got o­n the air plane to America.

I had hold o­n to every word she said about the new country that I had never been to. With my little knowledge of America, I had believed that it was the right decision to come to America to study, a country that was completely different from my own.

In every single angel that I can look at, America is nothing alike to my home town: the weather, the people, the language and the traditions. In the year I turned thirteen, I had entered a different world.

In this new world, people did not understand a word I said and I barely knew what they were talking about. I felt misunderstood and isolated, sitting among strangers. For the first time, I understood the feeling of loneliness, of trying to belong to somewhere but being left out. I was not happy.

Unlike many other girls in my classes, I had never cried. People told me that crying could make o­ne feels better because at least o­ne could express her feeling when she cried. I could not even cry. I felt numb and emotionless. I questioned myself many times if I had made the right choice to go study abroad.

I tried my hardest studying in a year to be able to go back home in the summer. It was such a pleasure feeling to be home: just to see the streets, sto mell the air, to feel the wind and the crowded atmosphere. It was also the longing to meet my old friends, to share with them and to hear about what I had missed while I was gone. Some answered and some did not, some felt like they still knew me and some felt like they did not. After a year, I felt like I did not know them at all.

I talked about the memories from years ago. They talked about the present that I was not so sure of. I was confused the way they are with the way they were back then, forgetting that they have moved o­n with time. I was the o­nly o­ne that was left back there. They changed while I was gone, and I still assumed that nothing happened. So nobody understood anybody… and the conversation turned to something else. I sat there and listened, feeling not belonging anymore. Their memories did not include me, their stories did not belong with me.

One year is a long time.

I am told that studying abroad will bring me a better future, which I am not so sure of. But there is o­ne thing I do know is that I have given up my present, have to hold o­n to my past, and have lost so many things, for a future that is not yet better.

Every year, coming back to America puts me back to the feeling at the beginning. I experience the isolation and loneliness all over again. It has taught me to become a much stronger girl than I ever was. I learn to stand o­n my own ground. In a country not of my own, I am no longer protected by my parents and friends. I end up working harder and become more independent. I realize that my friends could no longer be able to understand me because I has experienced a new world that is different than theirs. I no longer understand them for their dependence o­n their family of all aspects. I view life as a treadmill which keeps running no matter what. So if o­ne stops, o­ne will fall back and end up falling out. I make sure that I am running with my full speed and when I trip, I can stand up as fast as I can and continue o­n my path. No matter where I go from here, being happy or sad, I will survive.

Written by Trần Phương My A2 03-06