I lost my virginity to the United States. You read the title and you probably thought that there is something wrong with me. Why would I write about my sexual virginity? Why would I write about sex at all on my personal blog? Isn’t this the kind of stuff that you keep off the Internet only to be shared with your guy friends? These are very good points but I shall write what I want to write.
Six months ago, I was at the Beirut International Airport saying goodbye to my mother. She was crying and all I could do was hug and comfort her, hoping that it would stop the tears. At that moment, I was too excited to realize that I was leaving my family and that was about to change in the next few hours. After I got on the plane and found my seat, I was delighted to find out that my friend is sitting next to me and that I will not be bored throughout the trip. However, when we took off, I was slapped with a shocking realization: this is not a field trip. I just realized that I was not leaving my country for a week nor for a month. I was leaving home for 10 months. I gaze at the nothingness of the dark sky in Lebanon as I contemplated that idea.
That story was a simple example of how your feelings and motivations can change in a few seconds. What could six months do to you?
I am not the person I was when I first came here. I have been destroyed and rebuilt, I have been melted and forged again. People told me that I will “find myself” during this year and that I will learn to live on my own. These people either don’t know what this feels like or do but chose to lie to us. Even if they told us the truth, we would have made the same decision anyway. How did I change? If I met you during the past few months then you only know me as what I currently am. Let me expand on that.
I do not see the point in debating frequently anymore. If you knew me before I came here, you know I would do anything to prove my point right. I got into two to three arguments every day just because I believed I was right. Although I found it fun at the time, after I came here, I realized that it was useless. My comfort and lack of stress was far more important than proving my points right. And just like Bertrand Russell, I would not die for an idea because I might be wrong.
I have also became more emotionally and physically independent. I had to switch host families two times, I had to meet and get close to people who I will leave, and I had to learn to depend on myself. It’s when I faced the idea of leaving that I realized that I have nobody here. I hated it. How can I strengthen bonds with people I will leave, possibly for eternity? How can I create a new life for myself that I will desert only a few months after it stabilizes? Am I a masochist for doing this? What was I thinking?
I lost myself when I tried to find myself. I don’t know who I am anymore. I can tell you where I came from, what languages I speak and what I might want to be in the future. However, is that really who I am? Sartre said that we are just the sum of our actions. My actions are too contradictory for them to represent a human being. I truly lost my virginity, in fact I lost more than that, I lost my sanity.