I always find questions like “Where is home for you?” and “Where are you from?” or “Where did you grow up?” extremely hard to answer. Not only because of the numerous times I’ve been asked where I was really from, but also because sometimes, I genuinely don’t know how to answer that.

I was born in Taiwan but moved to the United States in third grade. I spent a year or two of my toddler years in the US, learning English around the same time I first learned to speak Chinese. After moving to Texas and later Seattle, I spent all my summers in Taiwan, spending up to two months a year fully immersed in Taiwanese culture. I speak Mandarin at home, English at school, but dream in both English and Mandarin.

So, where did I grow up? My early years were spent in Taiwan, but I hadn’t grown up by the time I moved. I did not grow up in the US either, since all my language and cultural foundations are in Mandarin and in Taiwan. For simplicity, I just tell people Taiwan.

Where is home? If we’re talking about a physical house, then it would be both Taiwan and Seattle. But what home really entails is somewhere you feel a sense of belonging to. At home, you share cultures and habits with those around you. Others see you and accept you as part of their “group.”

For a long time, I didn’t know where home was. Once I moved to the United States, I no longer “fit” in Taiwan. I still spoke Mandarin, but I was now the “American.” I developed a slight accent when speaking Chinese, and people could tell I wasn’t from the area just by looking at me. The way I dressed, the way my hair was parted, and the way I spoke Chinese all told people that I was not part of them.

However, I didn’t fit in the United States either. I had become more American, but I still wasn’t American enough. I liked Taylor Swift, but I also liked Jay Chou and JJ Lin. I watched and memorized all three High School Musical movies, but I also religiously watched Taiwanese variety shows. In that sense, I was too “fob” (fresh off the boat) to be fully American. I was often called the most “Asian” one out of my group of Asian friends, and I even came to joke about it. Most of the time, it didn’t bother me at all.

Until I was left with my own thoughts at two in the morning.

The worst thing that could happen to a teenager (other than losing a phone of course) is being left alone with their own thoughts late at night. An unanswered question of identity paired with teenage angst almost always ended up in a sleepless night full of despair. Nighttime magnified my desire to fully belong somewhere, and sometimes I would get angry at myself for not trying hard enough to become more American or more “fob.”

Over time, I came to realize that “home” didn’t have to be just one place. I didn’t have to fully fit into the customs and traditions of a place to be able to call it home. Home is where I have friends or family who will support me through thick and thin, and I can find that in both Taiwan and the United States.

For those who clicked on this, feeling out of place, you’re not alone. Home could take form in so many different ways, from a location to your family to a group of friends, and every single one of them is equally valid. Think about everything that has made you the way you are - that’s where home is.