Is this the place I’ve always wanted to be?
Is this the place I want to stay forever?

On July 4th, 2009, I was in New York.
More precisely—on the balcony of a 19th-floor apartment on West 48th Street, between Broadway and 8th Avenue. I was invited to a house party to see the fireworks display for the Independence Day.

It was my first summer in the U.S. I had arrived the previous November to study Arts Management.
After six months in that big, beautiful, chaotic playground called New York—a place where seemingly everyone was, or claimed to be, an artist—I was just beginning to find my footing.

The host was a Japanese choreographer I worked for. There were ten of us at the party.
Japanese, Korean, Chinese, German, French, Indian, Mexican, Brazilian.
Not one of us was American. And yet, we were gathered to celebrate Independence Day.

I remember thinking how funny that was, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to get political.
Besides, there was a cupcake with red and blue icing. And I was busy eating it (Yum).

“It’s about time the fireworks start,” someone said.
We stepped out onto the balcony and looked West.

I learned that the fireworks change locations every year.
I wondered if, next year, I’d be watching from the other side of Manhattan.

Because the truth was—I didn’t know how long I’d stay.
I was in limbo.
I had hoped to find work and stay in the U.S.
But without a flashy degree, a padded résumé, or many zeroes in my bank account…
I wasn’t sure if I could afford to.

There were always three questions people asked:

1. “Why did you come to New York?”
2. “How long have you been here?”
3. “How long will you stay?”

The first two were easy.
The third?
Always a shrug. Always: “I don’t know.”

I longed for certainty.
I wished I could say:
“Yes. This is it. This is where I belong. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Here come the fireworks!” someone shouted.
We turned to the sky.

And in that moment—I saw clarity in the dark.
And I thought:
Yes. This is the place I’ve always wanted to be.

Not a city.
Not a country.
But a state of being.
The place where I can grow.
And glow.

The place that inspires me.
Where I can give everything, hold nothing back.
Where I meet people who are passionate, interesting, creative or crazy—
And where I can be my full self.

The Fourth of July.
The day I became independent from my old self.

No borders.
No passport.
Just a place where I could become the version of me I’d been searching for.

And now—today—here I am.
Writing these words in a language I’ve acquired over the past sixteen years.

Is this the place I’ve always wanted to be?
Is this the place I want to stay forever?

Maybe.
Maybe not.
But right now—I am very happy to be where I am.