Dear Readers,
Safety, comfort and belonging. Those are the words that I associate with the word home. As I have been reflecting and writing about my personal search for home over the last few weeks, I have come to the understanding that the characteristics contributing to a sense of home are complex and involve emotional and psychological aspects that transcend a physical location. A sense of home is much more than a roof over one’s head or a place to sleep. It involves emotional attachment, emotional nourishment, a sense of rootedness, a strong sense of identity and connection, an environment of acceptance, love and protection.
I was raised in a loving home. I was raised in a home where my parents did the best they could and genuinely expressed care and took care of me. But I also was raised in a home where I felt a sense of darkness that I was never able to shake. I was raised with a lot of fear: fear of the world, fear of other people, fear of taking risks, fear of doing wrong, fear of stepping outside one's comfort zone, fear of God, fear of worldly desires. I could go on. I was often very confused as a child. I couldn’t explain what I sensed, but it was always there. The shadow of my dad’s war experiences, the shadow of trauma, loss and abuse in my mother’s family - those shadows seemed to have a lot of power and affected me greatly. The shadows, if you let them, can conceal some of the love, let fear become stronger than love, and make love look like control, or even manipulation. Those shadows can feel suffocating, and as a young child you don’t know what to do about it. You don’t know anything else. You sense that something is off, but you can’t pinpoint it.
So often during my life, I have wondered about the fact that I didn’t feel a strong sense of belonging growing up in Germany. I often wished I was from “somewhere else”, or dreamt of living anywhere else but where I was. When I created my photographic project “Trauma”, I did a lot of research on generational trauma and on the events that happened in my parents’ families. I came to a better understanding of my parents and grandparents. I started to feel more compassion for them, compassion for what they had to live through, and compassion for the limitations that those experiences put on them and how it affected their personalities and ultimately mine. I started to feel some compassion towards myself while at the same time experiencing a tremendous amount of grief. I realized I had been deprived, and without any bad intention, of a lot of experiences as a child and teenager that are necessary to build one's identity and develop self worth. I had not been given the freedom to explore, desire, and pursue. I had not been given the space to become an independent person. I had not been given the opportunity to make mistakes and see failure as a necessary part for growth. I had not been given the encouragement to persevere and overcome struggles and difficulties. I wasn’t able to fully become and recognize my worth as a person, as a woman.
All this came later. All this I had to fight for and work through for myself after I left my parent’s home. All this has taken years and lots of hard work to overcome, and, of course, it has been and will continue to be part of my lifelong journey.
I believe that my upbringing lacked the sense of safety, comfort and belonging that one needs to truly feel at home, and I shouldn’t blame my parents (even if I have done so many times), because they did the best they could and knew how to. I know that now. And while I have had lots of grief, anger, and disappointment, I try my hardest to let go of blame and extend forgiveness. I was cared for and loved in many ways, but I certainly lacked emotional security and nourishment. Moving around several times contributed to that, certainly, but I think that the presence of fear, or better the lack of feeling safe in the space that was meant to keep me safe, instilled in me a sense of being lost in this world. My tendency has always been to run away from that environment and to try to find a true home.
Throughout my upbringing, I certainly carved out spaces and ways to attempt to feel safe, to live without fear and explore what life had in store for me. As a child and teenager I turned to nature. I turned to books and music. I certainly turned to my siblings who felt everything in very similar ways. I made a few, very small attempts towards creativity, for example taking self portraits in my room. I imagined many other things I wanted to do with my life without really knowing how to get there. I became a daydreamer, dreaming of places far away where I could be who I wanted to be while not understanding what that fully meant. I tried exploring a few things here and there, but I did all of this in secrecy, hidden from anyone. I turned towards a career I didn’t love, I turned towards relationships that were not good for me. I became depressed and struggled with suicidal thoughts. But I continued searching for home, and through all of the searching I eventually became stronger, more resilient, and a little bit more brave.
So much has happened since then. I moved to another country, I got married, I became a mother, I dealt with personal loss and grief, I became an artist.
I look back at the person I was twenty something years ago, I look back at the person I was as a teenager, as a young adult, and I am so grateful for the person that I have become despite it all.
Being human is hard. Life is a continuous ride through mountains and valleys, through darkness and light, through joy and hardships. No one is spared from it. Lots of you may have had a tough upbringing, some of you experienced much worse circumstances than I ever did.
I think what made my upbringing difficult was the subtlety of it all. There wasn’t an obvious lack. From the outside, we were loved and cared for and had everything we needed, but on the inside my siblings and I struggled with something that has always been present and kept all of us from truly living a full life for a long time.
What has given me a sense of home during the years I have lived here in the United States is certainly my own family, the life we have been living together with all its ups and downs, the fact that I have been able to make wonderful friends, and, of course, being able to pursue an artistic career. Being able to express myself in images, words, and through teaching has given me so much deep satisfaction and I am so grateful for it all.
Maybe I haven’t felt at home as much in a place, maybe I haven’t felt at home as much in a house, but I have certainly moved from not knowing who I was towards becoming who I am, and will continue to do so. Struggles remain, but I had to learn through many lessons that my upbringing doesn’t define me and that things that have hurt me in the past ultimately can’t keep me from becoming the person that I am if I continue to make the right choices and take responsibility for my life.
I will keep searching, I will keep growing, and maybe someday I will be in a place where I can fully say “I am home”.
Thank you so much for reading! Your support means so much. The best way to currently support me and my work as this space is growing is by subscribing and sharing this publication.
Manuela
Reading your story helps me to understand your photography much better. The interweaving of the images with your words here is so strong. This last part especially resonated with me, because I had a similar experience growing up. I struggle to define "home" and I struggle to define myself. Self-reflection has become a bit of an obsession for me. I'm also neurodivergent, and that makes everything harder. But I love how healing creative expression can be. That's why I write poetry. And I love coming here to see how other creative people are healing themselves :)
Thanks so much for letting us know you.
This one, Manuela. “There wasn’t an obvious lack. From the outside, we were loved and cared for and had everything we needed, but on the inside my siblings and I struggled with something that has always been present and kept all of us from truly living a full life for a long time.” Like you, fear was front and center growing up. And, it wasn’t until I was living on my own that I began a journey of becoming who I am today. Thats probably why I respond to your work as we have, in some ways, lived parallel lives. It takes courage to share your story— thank you!