Yearning for Belonging

Coming back from Asia to Aotearoa New Zealand this time has left me wondering: Where is home? Where do I truly belong?

Touching down during our transit in Brisbane Airport felt unsettling. The fact that I was back in a Western country hit me more than it ever had before. Everyone around me spoke English. I became instantly aware of myself in a way I hadn't expected, "I am a minority". There weren't many people who looked like me, spoke another language, or came from a different cultural background. I felt grateful when I saw fellow Māori and Pasifika brothers and sisters, even though we were still very much in the minority together.

I don't think my brain was consciously thinking about what it means to be a minority. It was simply a feeling that arose as I looked around the airport. I felt the need to prove myself — to prove that I could speak English, that I held a New Zealand passport, and that I deserved a place here too.

At that very moment, I found myself missing Asia, even though I had left only ten hours earlier.

I missed being among people who looked like me. I missed the comfort and safety of blending into the crowd instead of standing out. I missed hearing multiple languages spoken at tourist destinations. More than anything, I missed the unspoken sense of connectedness — a feeling that people somehow saw and understood me. For example, a restaurant owner would gesture for me to sit down and look at me expectantly, assuming I was about to place an order in their language. Instead, I would smile and use Google Translate to explain what I wanted. Their surprise would quickly turn into genuine curiosity about where I had come from.

Looking out the taxi window on the journey home through Aotearoa felt unfamiliar, as though I was seeing it for the first time. I was no longer surrounded by high-rise apartments, bustling train stations, and crowded streets. Instead, there were rolling green hills and one- and two-storey houses.

I found myself wondering why I have chosen this place to call home. What drew me here in the first place, and what continues to keep me here? Is it my family and friends? And is that enough, when Asia felt so safe, comforting, and healing?

As I settle back into life in Aotearoa New Zealand, I am reminded of what is good here. The cultural diversity we have in Tāmaki Makaurau. The relatively low crime rates. The easy access to nature. The opportunity to enjoy a healthier work-life balance. There is so much about this place that I love.

Yet this recent journey has given me a new understanding of something I had never fully appreciated before. During my last trip to Asia, I recognised how deeply healing it was for me. This time, I realised why. It is the experience of simply being part of the majority. No need to prove myself and no need to justify my existence.

Perhaps home is not simply where we were born, or even where we choose to live. Perhaps home is where we are seen, where we are accepted, and where we can nurture a sense of belonging, within ourselves and with the people around us.