Tell your story #71: My home visit experience

Psalms 103:2 Let all that I am praise the LORD ; may I never forget the good things he does for me.
Hello my fellow Steemians, it's a lovely day and the beginning of new opportunities to correct the yesterday's wrongs and make the best of today's opportunities. I am pleased to be partaking in this contest of tell your story and will be sharing my personal experience during the holidays
Thank you @ruthjoe for the opportunity.

During the Christmas and New Year’s break, I traveled to my hometown to spend the holidays with my family. I was genuinely excited. In my heart, I imagined warmth, laughter, and that calm feeling that comes from being in a place where you belong. I thought I would rest. Instead, what I met felt unfamiliar—almost distant. Ironically, the home I was running to felt farther away than anywhere else I had been.

I am a graduate midwife in my country. After school, we are required to complete a mandatory one-year service, after which we wait for government posting. I had completed my service and was in that waiting period. While waiting, I was doing different things to survive financially. I was trying. But what I was earning was not enough to meet what people considered “success.”

WHAT HAPPENED

From the moment I arrived, the questions started.
“Where is my Christmas present?”
“What did you bring for me?”
“Oh, we thought you would come with your partner.”
“Are you not working?”
“So-and-so is working at this company.”
“This person has given birth to their second child.”
“Didn’t you hear? Someone is getting married next month.”
“That child of yesterday…”
Each comment felt like a reminder of what I had not yet achieved. Slowly, the excitement I carried home disappeared. In that moment, home felt heavy. I felt stuck. I felt left out.

Everyone seemed to expect something from me. Some people placed me on such a high pedestal that they didn’t expect me to do the ordinary things everyone in the village does—things I once did without thought. Others no longer saw me as their equal and quietly pulled away. The friends I used to move with were mostly gone—married, busy, building families. With no one to really talk to, boredom and loneliness settled in.

One day, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I sat with my mother and poured everything out. I told her I no longer felt like I belonged. I told her the expectations were suffocating me. I told her I wanted to leave. She listened quietly and allowed me to cry, complain, and speak without interacting me.
Then she said something that changed my perspective.
“Regina, aren’t you proud of how far you’ve come? You have a degree. Many of the people you think are ahead of you wish they had your opportunities. The exposure you’ve had cannot be compared to someone who has spent their entire life here. Would you rather rush into marriage and bring a child into struggle, or wait and raise children who will truly be proud of you?”

WHAT I LEARNT FROM MY EXPERIENCE

Her words stayed with me.
I paused. I reflected. And I thanked God—for my mother, and for my life. I realized how much grace had carried me this far. In that moment, I chose gratitude.
This experience taught me important lessons. I learned that it is okay to break down and speak out—it is necessary for mental health. I learned that progress is not measured by other people’s timelines but by our individual journeys. I learned the importance of having at least one person you can be vulnerable with and feel safe around. And most importantly, I learned that gratitude is not optional. When you begin to count your blessings one by one, you realize you have come farther than you think.
This visit home did not give me comfort—but it gave me clarity

I invite @amagrace and @gabriella26 to participate in this contest
@hive-154900