My Dubye: Going Away from Home is Hard, Going Back Home is Even Harder

I just turned 21 years old back then when I, in some way or another, had me winged by desire to live abroad and triumph over the corporate world. I was young thus what makes this woman shoved aside the comfort of home was a fledgling ambition. That was, what I thought it was.

As to cast one’s mind back in 2014, I believe that was the best choice I possibly ended and was a splendid blessing for when I run away and dash another journey, I never knew what was ahead yet I still had faith to grow in different and surprising ways. Still, over my great expectations, I bumped more into challenges and tasted the bittersweet desert city.

I withstood the test of time over sorrows and unsettled thoughts of home, endured the pain of life’s burns and disquiets at work, remained in existence despite the unbearable heat, and survived the sore of being forcedly driven out from your flat. Suchlike, I know not how to sort things up but as they say the trouble with being in a rat race is that even if you win or lose, you’re still a rat. By those moments of cries and victories, you still stand like nothing’s ever happening. But why and why not, life’s like that.

I got bruises, I got blessings, all at once. Now I have this certain choice to become bitter or better as I move away from this city. Rib tickling though, fear is smacking me off my feet. I am going back home.

Strange. I am being prompted by fear by just a thought of home.


I am returning from where I started with bundle of nerves. Yes, I’m faint-hearted to start from where I started. Words fell flat and it’s difficult to express than keep it that I, in certain ways, have this fear of forgetting what I have become and being someone I used to be. Wrapping one’s mind, I have gotten used to doing things a specific way – different to how I had done them before leaving home.

So now, dear self, please don’t expect to land right on your feet. Embrace yet again adjustment and as you tune, don’t dread. You’ll get through this, I promise.

At this point of my life, I am beyond thankful to come across John Chrysostom’s Whom Shall I Fear? Here it goes:

“The waters have risen and severe storms are upon us, but we do not fear drowning, for we stand firmly upon a rock. Let the sea rage, it cannot break the rock. Let the waves rise, they cannot sink the boat of Jesus. What are we to fear? Death? Life to me means Christ, and death is gain. Exile? ‘The earth and its fullness belong to the Lord. The confiscation of goods? We brought nothing into this world, and we shall surely take nothing from it. I have only contempt for the world’s threats, I find its blessings laughable. I have no fear of poverty, no desire for wealth. I am not afraid of death nor do I long to live, except for your good.”

What happened? Did I, someone regarding herself as a daughter of The Star-Breather, fail to remember the Solid Rock? Where was I standing when I almost drowned in the ocean? Where did I build my house when I striped the sand? It’s the Rock!

Not until I acknowledged my real fear, I will never give God my honest prayer. So what makes this woman honestly in dire fear returning home is a critic of her own. I once was impulsive, pushy and ordinarily take risks granting all the aftermaths. As I alighted in 2014, I have set for myself freedom, independence, greedy guts and success. Yeah, there goes a foolish young woman who had that inquisitive soul in her – an insanity leading to misery.

Except that only by God’s grace alone, I can finally taste the freedom to beautifully wear my scars.


Being so different as to be of different extremes, going back home doesn’t mean failure. Failure for me is returning home with the old me, and now mine’s success, nonetheless, I don’t know what lies ahead of me, I am mystified by the unknown, but all I know, He has prepared me for a new.

I will move forward, like the Apostle Paul so to speak, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead pressing toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

I am held in His arms and carried me this far and so He will carry me through. For not a single moment in 4 years did He forsake me while journeying the wilderness.

So I will not be fearless, but I will now fear less.


Yours with her piece of heart left in Dubai,

Dhaye xx

8 thoughts on “My Dubye: Going Away from Home is Hard, Going Back Home is Even Harder”

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