DIAGNOSTIC: IMMIGRANT | the manual of life

I tried to follow the manual of life.

Study. Work hard. Make my parents proud. Build a solid career.
Do everything “right.” 

For a long time, I believed that if I followed these steps,
things would make sense.

But they didn’t.

Because life and the human mind, is more complex than any manual.

When you follow external expectations without questioning what you actually feel,
something starts to fade quietly.

Achievements lose meaning.
Expectations turn into pressure.
And your sense of self becomes… fragmented.

I’m still learning how to live without that manual.

It’s uncomfortable.
Sometimes lonely.

But also freeing, because I’m finally starting to create my own way.

Being an immigrant is not just living in another country.

It’s carrying a constant sense of in-betweenness.

Here, I’m always “the immigrant.” The one adapting.
The one trying to figure things out. And sometimes… the one who no longer knows exactly who she is.

I came here with a story.

A degree in psychology.
A postgraduate specialization.
Years as an athlete.
A life shaped by experiences, discipline, and dreams. But arriving here changed something.

My diploma doesn’t hold the same weight.
My past feels distant.

And what’s left…
is a version of me that feels unfinished.

Living abroad also confronts you with reality.

In a place like the Netherlands, everything has a cost. And with that comes a quiet question: 

Who am I, if I’m not producing?
If I’m not earning?
If I’m not visibly “moving forward”?

It’s hard not to tie your worth to productivity.

Even when your life is full of experiences,
it can still feel like it’s not enough.

And then there’s social media.

A space where I try to express who I am but never fully can.

30 seconds. 1 minute. It’s not enough to hold everything I feel.

Sometimes I see myself becoming an image
that doesn’t fully represent me.

And that only adds to the fragmentation. So I created this space.

Not to be perfect.
But to be honest.

To share not only the beautiful parts of the journey,
but also the confusion, the doubt, the in-between.

Because I know what it feels like
to have big dreams and feel completely alone in them.

Who am I now?

This is the question that follows me.

Am I still the psychologist?
The athlete?
The traveler?

Or am I something else I don’t fully understand yet?

Being an immigrant, for me,
is living in that tension.

Between who I was,
what I’ve done,
and what I’m still becoming.

Maybe life isn’t meant to be linear.

Maybe purpose isn’t something you find once but something you keep redefining.

Life is a one-way ticket. There’s no going back,
but there is always a way forward. Even if it happens in fragments.

If you’re reading this and feel lost,
uncertain, or disconnected from yourself.

you’re not alone.

The first step is to try.

Because only by trying,
the answer can be yes.

And that “what if…”
can finally become a story.

Bon voyage.