When I moved from my native country to America eighteen years ago, I was intent on learning how to speak English with as little accent as possible. I just wanted to fit in, especially when I started looking for a job. I wanted equal opportunity and in my mind, that meant losing the accent. I realize now, I probably subconsciously held on to it as a coping mechanism.
Because for expats like me, there is this constant duality between the culture we live in and the culture we were born in, and finding a balance between the two can sometimes be challenging. Once uprooted, one has to grow new roots in a completely different soil, while maintaining original environmental conditions necessary to thrive.
But truth be told, the uprooting process is never a clean one. Some roots are left behind in the original soil, still alive and forever part of it. Makes me giggle today when someone detects an accent and asks me where I’m from. A welcome reminder that after all these years of living abroad, I’m still me.