The Hardest Part of Having Two Homes

For the past four years, my life has been split between Manila and Toronto.

I moved to Toronto for university, but I always returned home to Manila for Christmas. Some years, I also came back for the summer. I became used to airports, packing suitcases, dealing with time differences, and constantly adjusting between two different lives.

You might think that after doing this for four years, leaving would become easier.

It never did.

Whenever I returned to Manila for Christmas, part of me felt sad about leaving Toronto. I had grown to love my life in Canada, including my friends, my classes, and the independence I had developed. Even though I was excited to see my family, I still missed the life I had temporarily left behind.

Then, just as I became comfortable in Manila again, it was time to return to Toronto. Saying goodbye to my family always felt even harder.

Leaving Never Became Normal

When I am in Toronto, I miss my family in Manila. When I am in Manila, I know that eventually I will have to leave them again.

My parents sometimes visit me in Toronto, and I am always happy when they arrive. For a while, the distance between us disappears. We eat together, explore the city, and simply enjoy one another’s company.

Then they leave, and everything feels quiet again.

I am someone who overthinks, especially when it comes to time. Instead of simply enjoying the days I have, I start counting how many are left.

Three weeks until I have to fly back to Toronto.

Ten days until I have to go to the airport.

One final weekend with my family.

I tell myself that I am preparing for the goodbye. The truth is that I sometimes start saying goodbye before I even have to leave. I allow the sadness of the future to enter moments that are still happening.

I do not like doing that. I want to enjoy the time I have, whether I am with my family, spending time with friends, or simply having a quiet day alone.

Constantly counting down makes that difficult.

A Summer I Will Always Remember

I finished university in June and returned to Manila for the summer. It was the longest period I had spent at home since moving to Toronto.

Honestly, it might have been the best summer of my life.

I travelled with my family, visited different countries, had countless lunches and dinners, played sports, went swimming, and spent time with the people I love. Some days were exciting, while others were completely ordinary.

I will always remember both.

The big memories are easy to remember, but the small ones can be just as meaningful. Sitting together during a meal. Laughing about something that was not even that funny. Playing one more game with my family. Staying at the table after everyone had finished eating.

For once, I had enough time in Manila to feel completely at home again.

Now, another chapter is approaching. Soon, I will return to Toronto to begin my master’s degree.

I am excited about what is ahead. It is an opportunity to continue learning, keep growing, and take another important step toward the future I want to build.

Still, I already know how difficult it will be to say goodbye at the airport.

Before I have even packed my suitcase, I have started thinking about our final dinner, the drive to the airport, and the moment I will have to hug everyone goodbye.

Once again, I am counting the days.

Do Not Let the Ending Steal the Present

I recently heard Giannis Antetokounmpo, NBA Champion, say something that stayed with me:

“Do not cry because it is over. Smile because it happened.”

His message does not mean we should pretend that goodbyes are easy. Feeling sad is natural when we have to leave people and places that matter to us. The pain of leaving often shows how meaningful the time was.

However, sadness should not take away our gratitude.

Instead of only thinking about how many days I have left, I want to remember how fortunate I am to have days worth missing. I have a family that makes it difficult to leave Manila. I have friends whose absence I notice when I am away. I have built lives in two cities that both mean something to me.

Not everyone gets to experience that.

Having two homes can be emotionally difficult, but it is also a blessing. Manila reminds me of where I came from. Toronto reminds me of how much I have grown. One gives me comfort and belonging, while the other gives me independence and possibility.

Leaving one does not mean I am losing it. I will always carry both places with me.

Moving Forward Does Not Mean Forgetting

Returning to Toronto does not mean I am giving up my life in Manila. It means I am carrying everything this summer gave me into my next chapter.

I will carry the conversations, the laughter, the trips, the meals, and the ordinary afternoons. I will carry my family’s support whenever graduate school becomes difficult. I will carry the knowledge that thousands of kilometres away, there are people who believe in me and want to see me succeed.

Moving forward does not require us to forget what we are leaving behind.

We can miss people while still feeling hopeful. We can feel sad at the airport while also being excited about where the plane is taking us. Gratitude and sadness can exist together.

I will probably continue to overthink. I will probably still count the days sometimes. When the moment comes, I may still cry at the airport.

Until then, I want to be present.

I want to enjoy every remaining meal with my family without thinking about it being the last one. I want to laugh with my friends without immediately wondering how much I will miss that laughter. I want to appreciate today before it becomes a memory.

If you are approaching the end of a meaningful season, do not spend all your remaining time thinking about its ending.

Be present with the people you love. Take the photograph. Have the conversation. Enjoy the ordinary moments. Say thank you while you still have the chance.

When the time comes to leave, allow yourself to be sad. Then look back with gratitude and move toward the good things waiting ahead.

Do not cry only because it is over.

Smile because you were fortunate enough to experience it.