A City I Will Always Love, but No Longer Call Home
Guadalajara is where I was born, where my family still lives, yet it no longer feels like home. I know the streets and the people, but familiarity isn’t belonging. The city will always be a part of me, but like an old friend, I no longer truly know it. Is that sad? I’m still figuring it out.
I am in my hometown of Guadalajara, Jalisco, in Mexico. I was born here, and although I was in my early twenties when I emigrated to the United States, I no longer feel like I belong. My parents are here, my siblings are here, and much of my family still resides in Mexico. But every year, this country feels a little more foreign to me than the year before.
Mexico is very different from what it was when I lived here, and by consequence, my hometown of Guadalajara has changed as well. While I struggle to put into words exactly how I feel about this, the best way to describe it is a mix of nostalgia and acceptance. I recognize the streets, the neighborhoods, and the people. But knowing a place and feeling at home in it are two different things.
Guadalajara no longer feels familiar in the way home should. Instead, it feels more like a city I’ve visited before—one I recognize but don’t quite belong to. It’s not unlike other countries I’ve traveled to, places I may appreciate and even understand to some extent, but that never truly feel like mine.
This country and city will always be a part of me, but it no longer feels like home.
It is the place where many of my loved ones live, and I will continue to visit forever. But the idea of it as my hometown, as the place that defines me, is gone.
This city has an incredible history, and it is a beautiful place. But to me, it feels like an old friend—you still recognize them, but you no longer truly know them.
Is that a sad feeling? I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it out.
