23 American Years

23 years ago today I came to America. Every year, this day is very special to me. More than any other year, today is also special because 23 years marks my mid-life. Today, I lived in my mother country, Romania, just as many years as I have lived in America – 23. Trying to figure out whether I am Romanian or American is another story for another day.

Today is also the day before one of the most historic presidential inaugurations in American history. I feel like I have come full circle and not in a good way. I ran away from a murky political system, full of self-interest and hatred, chaotic and lost. I ran away towards decency  and freedom. I was happy. My heart full of hope.

I knew America would give me everything I ever wanted since I was a little girl – respect, a decent job that would allow me and my family a decent life. But more than that – it would give me a status in the world that I would be proud of. That would open doors to other countries without asking for visas and other legalities. A status that would make me proud to say I come from America, no matter where I was going.

America did give me a decent job and a decent life. It did open doors for a while and gave me possibilities I had never ever dreamed of. But recently, it broke my heart and shadowed my pride. Nowadays, I question why I ever left my country. But with no regrets, I tread forward and hope that we can figure a way out of this. I am still a believer in American possibilities. Still believe in the good fight. Still believe in the goodness of this people who built the country of all possibilities. All the people who have fought for justice and decency.

I am grateful to all the people that have crossed my path over these 23 miraculous years. People who taught me everything from how to fill a tank of gas to how to balance a check book. How to eat shrimp and how to roast a turkey. People who have loved me and shared their lives with me. I am also grateful for the hard lessons, and the losses, too. They only made me stronger and make me believe even more in my resilience and resolve. Made me believe that it’s possible to come out stronger even from the lowest places.  People who did the impossible: taught optimism to a cynical, fatalist Romanian.

America is truly a melting pot. This was one of the things I was looking the most forward to when I crossed over. I am grateful for all the people that I have been fortunate to meet who are different than me and who shared their lives and perspectives with me. I am richer because of all of you.

There are so many things I could say about my journey here I would need to write several volumes to do it all justice. Maybe one day I will. You all who know me know this well. When I look back on my American life, I recall this conversation that could easily apply to the past 23 years of my life: President Clinton was told in an interview that his book, My Life, was a “great book.” And he chuckled and said: “Well, I don’t know if it’s a good book. But I tell you what: it’s a hell of a good story.”

Be well, America. Get healthy. And above all: thank you.