Citizen of the World

About me

My name is Rachael James. I was born in 1990 in London, England to Kiwi parents. But this was not meant to last very long. Mere months after my birth, we relocated to Berlin, Germany, though we continued to have very close bonds with the UK, my adopted grandparents in Eastbourne for one. In Germany my brother was born, 1992. I spoke fluent German and English (Do you know how weird it is to watch home videos of yourself blabbing away in a language you barely understand?) Our family was happy there, but my parents' careers threw us another curveball. We were to relocate to Copenhagen, Denmark.

1994. Copenhagen. The place that would quickly teach me how to fake an accent, put on a painful persona and speak like I a potato had been shoved halfway down my throat. Sounds awesome right? Well, yes... parts of it was awesome. But mostly I found myself feeling like an alien in the country I was desperate to fit in to. Before the age of ten I realised that you can try as hard as you want. Learn the language, speak it like a native, walk like a native, act like a native... but there will always be someone there to remind you that you aren't one. 

We continued to travel the world with Copenhagen as our base. Mum and I returned to New Zealand, the country where I should have belonged, when I was twelve for a good chunk of time. Even back home, I had trouble fitting in. I was too European, too foreign. Next came Singapore. And Singapore worked. People didn't care where we were from of what history we had. Everyone was welcome. Everyone was happy. But that couldn't last. Mum's contract finished and we returned, once again to Copenhagen. 

I decided to become Danish. After all, I'd spent almost a decade there, on and off. I got myself a standard job at a supermarket to help pay for my high school education. My parents were divorced by then. My brother stayed with my mother, I stayed with my father. Neither situation was perfect and we all hit plenty of speed bumps along the way. I chose to focus on the natural sciences, having given up on ever becoming an author. It was too sketchy, too uncertain. I yearned for stability and gosh darn it- I was going to get it. 

Except no. Mother moved to Belgium, father moved back to New Zealand, brother moved to Australia. I was alone in a country that hated me. But still I persisted. I'd come this far right? I entered University, the dream of becoming a successful author once again burning bright. English, Latin and Ancient Greek. Pure linguistics. Maybe I could become an etymologist? I mean- who doesn't love language right? And I could always fall back on teaching if that didn't pan out... So I studied... and I drank... and I got consumed by University life. It was great. People around me loved litterature, language, authors, linguistic history, dialects, phonetics... It was like heaven. I had a fair job in a little café, I was involved in anything and everything I could get close to. And still there was a void inside me. Mother got injured halfway through my third year. And I left Denmark for the last time, moved to Brussels, Belgium. It was only supposed to be six months. I told myself I'd be back. But the community I entered was English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh. And I fell in love with it. I worked in a true Irish Pub. Everyone was an expat, everyone had a story, a background, everyone spoke English. 

I fell in love with the idea of English. I dated an English man. I had his baby, my son, Jack. He is the best thing I have ever done and it is time for me to take him home! And so, the thing I always knew I was supposed to do is going to be my ticket. I finally sat down and wrote and wrote and I finally have a product that I believe in, that I am proud of. Thank you for taking the time to read this and to peruse my blog. Hopefully it will take us where we need to be!

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