The Comeback

First song in the car, driving to my mom

I’ve been out of the country for a longer time in the past. In 2020, I spent three months in the mountains in Italy, staying with a young family and helping them out with the kids while they were starting up a small creative community. I arrived the day before they closed down the borders because of Covid-19. Being there during the pandemic was the best thing that could’ve happened to me. The village I stayed in was no bigger than twenty houses. The carabinieri (the Italian police) didn’t make the effort to drive all the way up to 1,000 meters to check on us. So every morning, I would get up, go for a long walk, not see a soul, and enjoy nature in her full glory. The air, the water, the food, and just life were so incredibly pure and fresh over there—physically, I’ve never felt better in my life.

But I’m steering away from the point I want to make. I’ve been away from Belgium for a longer time in the past, but coming back always felt like nothing had changed. The places, the people, the habits, and the energy were all still intact. I felt like a butterfly that had escaped from her cocoon, only to find upon returning to her place of birth that the cocoon was still there, forcing her back into the shape that kept her small.

This time, that is not the case.

Trying to find NY in BE

I do not wish to be a Debbie Downer, but I’m just going to say it as it is. I am not happy to be back in Belgium. It already started the moment I was boarding the plane at JFK airport. I heard ‘my people’ speak Flemish (our version of Dutch), and I wanted to vomit. Sure, I’m happy to see my friends and family again, but those moments are brief, and when we part again, this lingering feeling of being dead on the inside creeps up and takes over. I can’t help myself; the feeling is too strong. I just don’t want to live in this country anymore. Belgium and I are not a match. I’ve felt like this for such a long time, and being in NY for the past three months has only affirmed this.

The minute the plane landed on Belgian soil, my inner fire went down to its lowest setting again. On a daily basis, I have to drag myself out of bed and out of the house, not really wanting to do anything or to see anybody. Luckily, I do find a way to get over myself and when I see my friends, that depressing feeling fades. I feel happy to see them and we spend great, spontaneous nights out. Only, the minute those moments pass, the spark of life disappears again.

Seeing my friends again, many of them asked me what it is that makes New York so special. Isn’t it expensive? Isn’t it loud? Overly crowded? Yes, all of the above, but during my trip to NY, I felt alive again. I felt a joy for living that I’m struggling to find here. And I strongly believe it has to do with the energy a place holds.

The energy New York carries is unmatched by any place on this Earth. Everybody there feels it, and everybody is a part of it. Yes, it can be overstimulating; it’ll take you a minute to get used to the pace, to the chaos, and to the millions of inputs you get in a day. But at the same time, it pushed me to really tap into myself—to listen, and to feel more clearly where I wanted to invest my time and energy. It made me more aware of my feelings in the moment. It was a daily practice of being more present, learning what gave me energy and what took it away. Having to deal with so many things coming at you at the same time, I had to step into my own power and stand up for myself. The city made me choose myself, over and over again. Pretty good exposure therapy for a people-pleaser like myself.

I also know that it was the music, the art, the culture, and the people that lifted me up and made me smile just walking down the streets. The music is soulful. The art is oh-so-colorful. The culture feels respected and preserved by all kinds of communities. And the people? The people of New York see you and don’t really see you, and that gives a great sense of personal empowerment and freedom. You can be whoever you wish to be. They might have their opinions about you, but there is always a form of respect. All layers of society live amongst each other; not everybody lives or works in the same circumstances, but they still connect through dance, through food, and through conversation. Always (or, in my experience, most of the time) open to hearing your story and sharing theirs. To create a memorable moment together.

It’s not all rainbows and sunshine, and I am very much aware that the city has its flaws. People can act crazy, seeming to be lost in or overwhelmed by life. The streets can feel dirty and broken. The noise can be loud, overtaking an entire block on a Sunday evening. But to me, that’s the beauty of it. It makes life feel so real. It makes me feel grateful to have been born in a place that could provide safety and social security—a lottery ticket of birth and geographical privilege that I didn't even earn. Because the facts are, you don’t get to choose where you are born (or the circumstances you are handed). And it makes me want to push harder, to make sure that I deserve my spot here on this Earth (instead of being an ungrateful little European Princess, as my Russian Airbnb host pointed out).

New York is the place for dreamers (like myself). A place for those who imagine a different life for themselves. No dream is too ridiculous. And every New Yorker I talked to about my dream of moving there told me: “It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible.” Every New Yorker knows this: it’s a struggle, but there is still a place for you if you really want it.

Reflecting, reflecting, reflecting

I’ve been trying to see the place I live in right now through the same lens as the one I was wearing in NY. In a way, you could say that the Turnhoutsebaan in Borgerhout is a little bit like Knickerbocker Avenue in Bushwick. It’s dirty, it’s a big mix of all different kinds of cultures, people don’t really give a fuck, and the men try to flex with their big-ass cars whenever the red light turns to green. It seems the same, but it still feels very different. It’s the energy, my dears, everything is energy. It’s very clear this place doesn’t have the right kind for me, and by the looks of it, for many other people too. I’ve had multiple conversations this week with people who feel the exact same way: “I wish to escape Belgium. I want to relocate. I don’t feel the energy here.” It’s going south, it’s too far gone; it feels ‘safe’ but it’s only a false sense of safety because it’s familiar. It’s the comfort zone we all seem to need and wish to break free from.

Maybe I’ve been brainwashed by the city. Maybe it was a three-month-long crush and now I’m experiencing a hard comedown. But I went on this journey to know if I could live in the city for a longer period, and the answer is still a full-on yes. Will I live there for the rest of my life? Probably not, but for now, it sure is my next step!

Circling back to: nothing feels the same anymore. I’ve been reflecting so much on all the emotions that have been going around in my body and my mind. The process is still ongoing, but I know that it’s not the circumstances, the environment, nor the people. It’s me. (Even though I believe, collectively, we’re all going through this change, so maybe it’s not really me—do you get what I’m saying?) I went through such a profound change and it’s still settling in. The ruins of my cocoon are still here. There are still environments, people, and patterns that feed the idea of 'the old me'. On a daily basis, I feel my inner Gargamel screaming: ‘I hate the Smurfs' (or in my case, ‘the Belgians’). The inner struggle is real, honey!

But the desire to move to New York is lighting a fire under my ass so big it’s burning down every last piece of the old Self. The choice is mine. I can choose to let myself go and be depressed, whining about all the things I don’t like, feeling frustrated and blaming my past. Which I actually did for the past two weeks, but life has a funny way of putting the right kind of people on your path, spontaneously. And just like that, heartfelt conversations about my feelings, my experiences, and my desires helped me to get over myself and just live out the emotions, instead of holding them in. It created the much-needed space to start taking action on making those desires come true. (and she’s going it, babes!)

I’m so grateful that I can be this authentic in life, and that I have people around me who have the capacity to See me and help me stand in my power fully. Because no, life isn’t easy. But I am still a big believer in the phrase: ‘Life doesn’t serve you what you cannot handle.’ So step into your power, dears, and go kick life's ass!

With love,

Naomi/Numi