Accepting the still in me

Coming to a place where others hear and see that I am different, only I really know the difference in me. I can't speak or understand the language. But I'm not stupid. I look like everyone else. But I am not like everyone else. I dress differently. My life routines are different. But it doesn't mean I don't want to be friends. What are the boundaries in who I choose to be?

From the day I landed, I was noticed by those that live here, but also by other foreigners, too! From the things that I choose to eat, buy, do or say, whether I turn the page with my left hand or whether I heed someone's advice, the slightest encounters shape their entire perception. But I won't be trapped by their opinions. Sometimes, they are wrong about me. I don't need to make them understand.

Where I came from, my differences were embraced, and even appreciated, by the people that I opened up to. Hence, differences. Accepted still.

The same differences aren't seen here in the same way that they were received at home. I realize that I had choice people surrounding me. It may just be a matter of finding those choice people, wherever I live.

So I search. I seek. I am active. Still, I wait. And one encounter at a time, those bonds will form, develop, and be strengthened. I'm not bound by where a person grew up or what they believe. I'm free to develop the relationships I have already been entrusted with. I'm free to find new friends. I'm free to release, to build, to meet, to talk, to listen, to love, to befriend, to pour out, to receive, to give, to see.