letters to nobody #8: breaking point

darling nobody,

loneliness is ten times worse when you’re far, far away from home and have nothing to hold on to. i begin to have problems with my host family, who believe they’re treating me like ‘a princess.’ they’re not. that’s all i know: i’m being treated like shit. i didn’t come to cancun, i realize, to cry every other day and spend my time lying facedown on my bed. i didn’t come to cancun to spend my saturdays cleaning the house of my host family, or to spend my own money on food- something i need to survive. i didn’t come to cancun to be lied to, to feel guilty despite doing nothing, to be scolded for every little thing i do.

but i begin to think all this is normal: that i’m overreacting, even.

the others tell me how close they are to their families, how much fun they have with them- and it all seems impossible to me.

it all builds up to one fateful monday.

i go home after a blissful weekend with my weekend family, and after i take a shower, my host mother materializes at the door, asking me to clean the toilet.

but i just took a bath, i tell her. she doesn’t care.

she’s sort of obsessed with cleaning, and i practically dread every time she talks to me because it’s always about cleaning something.

it’s a nightmare.

i don’t clean the toilet when she tells me to. she talks about saving water but doesn’t care that i have to take a shower twice in less than two hours, and it makes me furious. she doesn’t listen to me when i tell her i’ll do it later, but i can’t find it in me to care.

instead, i videocall my parents and begin to pack my bags.

i have a breaking point.

i pay for it, of course.

a few hours later, when my host mother returns home, she knocks on the door of my bedroom and says something in spanish. i don’t understand, and say so. she calls her daughter to translate for me.

my mom is saying that you shouldn’t pretend to not understand, her daughter tells me- and hence, begins one of the worst evenings of my life.

i am yelled at, told that i am disrespectful, lazy and not responsible.

you must do things when we want you to do them, it is not up to you to decide, i am told.

they tell me that they’re treating me like a princess, and threaten to complain to rotary about how badly i’m behaving.

i begin to cry as they talk, not knowing what to do or say.

they leave after a while and i all but fall to the floor, hugging my knees as i sob. i begin to text everyone i know frantically, begging them to come take me away from here- i’m told several things: we need to follow the process, we can’t just take you away, it’s your fault too. my counsellor is willing to take me in, but then suddenly, everyone stops responding.

i’ve never felt more alone.

i feel so unsafe and unhappy here, i tell them, how can you let me stay?

i cry and cry until i’m drained of all energy.

my host mother, i know, has gone for a meeting with my youth exchange officer, who is going to tell her that i’m changing my family. i know it’s going to happen but the problem is when. i know i can’t stay here another night. every minute is terrifying: i am anxious, on edge, and my heart is pounding with fear. if i stay, i’m going to have to face them again tomorrow, hear them scold me and make cutting remarks, have them take me to school and pick me up and spend a whole day with them. just the thought of it feels like the end of the world.

my eyes begin to close. i have to fight to keep them open. i can’t sleep, not now- not when i’m the least safe and most vulnerable i’ve ever felt.

i sit on the floor, still hugging my knees, dreading the sound of my host mother’s car returning. i’ve never been more scared, i realize, and i want to go back home. for the first time since the beginning of my exchange, i feel like i cannot stay in mexico at all. it feels like an unhappy place now and i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to feel happy here again. the only solution now seems to be going home.

i freeze when i hear my host mother’s car in the driveway. i hear her coming up to my room, and at the same time i get a text from my counsellor: we are coming to pick you up at 8pm.

i’m too drained, too upset, too tired to even feel happy. i don’t know how to feel at all: i can’t even find it in me to be relieved.

i spend my last two hours in the house cleaning the toilet and my room. i’ve been ordered to, and i’m not even upset anymore- just resigned. it doesn’t matter anyway, i’m leaving in two hours.

when my counsellor arrives outside with his husband, i break down again. i go to get all my things, sit in the car, and cry some more. my counsellor hands me tissues, and reminds me that it’s all over now. better times are coming, he says. they get me a burger and take me to their house, where we watch television, eat and talk for a while. i am exhausted, but the day has finally started to get better.

i go to my new house at around nine in the night. i meet my new host mom, brother and sister for the first time, and instantly feel better.

i’m not going to tell you the rules of the house tonight, you deserve a break, my host mom tells me, we don’t have a lot of rules anyway.

there are five cats and a dog in the house. i am not really a cat person but what i don’t know yet is that in the next few days, i’m going to turn into one.

i am taken to my bedroom and it’s gorgeous. there are flowery sheets on the bed, the lights are warm, and there are four pictures framed to the wall: two of musical notes (a sonata by mozart), one seems like ancient europe, a man and a woman sitting across from each other at a table, and the third (my favourite) is a picture of two little children walking down a path together. it reminds me of an enid blyton story. the room is welcoming and warm and i’ve never felt more at peace in mexico.

i really feel like i’m going to be happy here, i text my friends that night.

i never thought that the day was going to get better, but it did- and darling nobody, i am thankful for it.

darling nobody,

i don’t alternate between happy and sad days anymore, and i realize that i missed out on so much- on so much happiness- in my old family. i’m here and happy now, though, and i know i will continue to be for a long time.

x