What I Feel Being Far From My Home Country

Living far from home is a strange mix of strength and softness. When I first left Bangladesh, I carried excitement, hope, and big dreams in my suitcase. But as the days turned into months, I realized that distance is not measured only in kilometers — it is also measured in the quiet moments, in the things you suddenly miss, and in the memories that grow louder when you are alone.

Some days, Japan feels incredibly beautiful. Clean streets, calm trains, polite people, and endless opportunities to grow. I enjoy learning new things, meeting new faces, and building my future step by step. Here, I feel inspired. I feel challenged. I feel like I am slowly becoming the person I always wanted to be. But at the same time, there is another feeling that sits deep inside — the feeling of being far from home.

I miss the sound of Bangla on the streets, the smell of home-cooked food, the warm chaos of family conversations, and even the small arguments that now feel precious. I miss hearing my mother's voice without checking the time zone. I miss sitting with my father silently, without needing to explain anything. I miss my siblings, their jokes, their stories, and the comfort that only family can give. Distance makes even the simplest moments golden. And then there are the festivals. Eid mornings feel different. No matter how well I prepare, something is always missing — that feeling of celebrating together, laughing together, praying together. You realize that home is not just a place. It is the people who make you feel that you belong.

Yet, living abroad also teaches you something important: strength. You learn to depend on yourself. You learn to manage life alone. You learn to wipe your own tears and push yourself to move forward even when your heart is heavy. You discover courage you didn’t know you had.

Sometimes, when I walk alone in a quiet Japanese street, I think about how far I’ve come — not just in distance, but in life. I realize that every struggle, every homesick night, every new challenge is shaping me into someone stronger, wiser, and more patient. Being far from home hurts… but it also builds you.

I carry Bangladesh in my heart, no matter where I live. My culture, my memories, my childhood, my people — they travel with me. And one day, when I return, I know I will look at my homeland with even more love and gratitude than before.

Until then, I keep moving forward — growing, learning, and holding onto that small flame of home that burns inside me.

Because no matter where I go, home is always the place my heart quietly returns to.