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The Identity Stones We Carry




A lot of my friends have asked me, “So, how’s it been settling in Germany for almost a year now?” And honestly, I’ve always found it hard to answer that in a single sentence. It’s like asking, “How’s life?” Gee—I don’t know, how much time do you have?


Actually, wait. I do know. It’s been a funny, messy, identity-shaking struggle. Moving abroad, you don’t just leave your country—you leave parts of yourself behind. When I left Indonesia, I didn’t just pack my bags; I packed up 29 years of who I was, and a lot of it stayed there.




PART ONE


Let me put it this way: ever since we arrived on this planet, we’ve been collecting little “identity stones.” You know, the pieces that make up who we are. Some are beautiful, some are practical, and some define us in ways that are hard to explain. Over time, these stones become our answer to that big question: “Who am I?”


But here’s the catch—these stones aren’t always permanently glued to us. Some are tied to certain times in our lives, certain people, or even certain places. So when you leave that place? Yeah, some of those stones stay behind.


Now, imagine me, leaving 29 years of carefully collected stones back in Indonesia.

I went from being a full-time employee in middle management—a role that took years of work to achieve—to a full-time student working part-time just to get by in this new, strange land called Deutschland. In other words, I left behind my “career woman” stone and picked up the “student in survival mode” stone. That’s a shift.


I was someone’s best friend, someone’s colleague, someone’s daughter (okay, I still am, but it doesn’t always feel like it from this far away). I was a singer, a small theater artist, a speaker and moderator for creative events. All those stones? They’re nicely stored back in Jakarta, gathering dust, waiting.


So, here in Germany, I had to start collecting new stones. Some feel foreign, like being someone’s girlfriend, or someone’s son’s girlfriend, or someone’s friend’s girlfriend (notice the pattern?). Then, there are the new roles: a student, an international friend, a fellow Indonesian in a far-off land.


Oh, and let’s not forget the “taxpayer” stone (albeit a tiny one), the “obsessed train rider” stone, and the rookie-at-hiking-sailing-skiing-cold-lake-swimming stone. I’ve even started eyeing the “dreamer of traditional Indonesian massages” stone. You’d think that’s quite a lot of stones for less than a year, right?

Well, yes, but here’s the thing—not all stones fit. Some are sharp and jagged; they hurt, and you have to swap them out for something else. And some? Well, some are just handed to you, like a little “welcome to your new life” kit. For me, that included the body language speaker stone—because, yep, I still don’t speak German yet. It’s like you arrive, and they’re like, “Here, good luck with this one.” So, you take it and figure out how to make it work. My collection is still a work in progress. Some days, I feel like I’m just lugging around heavy rocks.


Don’t get me wrong—it’s neither good nor bad. It just is. It’s what happens when you’re caught between life choices, between places, and between versions of yourself. It’s uncomfortable. You know that cliché about diamonds needing pressure? Yeah, that.


The process also looks different for everyone. Some people pick up joy, others pick up depression. I’ve heard that story too many times. But along the way, you find rare stones—pieces of your new identity that feel right. And when I find those stones, I hold onto them like Gollum with his “precious.” Those stones? They make it worth it.


So, almost a year in Germany, and what have I learned? Moving abroad doesn’t just challenge you—it strips you down and makes you rebuild, one stone at a time. And while that can be overwhelming, it’s also a chance to rediscover who you are in a completely new context.


For anyone thinking of making a similar move, let me tell you this: it’s not easy, and you’ll feel lost, almost definitely. But you’ll also find new parts of yourself—parts you didn’t know existed. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll end up with a collection of stones that shines brighter than you could’ve imagined.


Always with love,

Idelia



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