There is a difference between loneliness and solitude, and it’s one I’ve always been able to distinguish clearly. I don’t feel lonely when I’m alone; on the contrary, I feel more in tune with myself. And in that lies a kind of freedom that many people, over the years, have told me they wish they could experience as well.

When I left Switzerland for Ireland, it was only ever meant to be for a year, two at most. And yet here I am, in my eleventh year. Now, when I return to Switzerland, I feel a sense of estrangement. Everything seems familiar in a way, and yet it no longer feels like home. I have built a life elsewhere, one I cannot imagine ever leaving behind, nor can I imagine reintegrating into Switzerland again.

My cousins and I bonded over stacking hay, pulling weeds, setting up beanstalks, and racing go-karts down the quiet road by our house, back when hardly any cars passed through. Looking back, it almost feels like it never really existed.