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Is there anybody going to listen to my story?

As far as I can remember I’ve always wanted to live abroad. When I was about 8 I found a cassette from my brothers which had two Beatles songs and it only took one listen to it and I was in love.

My cousin, who was also a big fan of the Beatles, lent me a book about them (because back then PCs and internet were something that you would only see in awe on films) which I read over and over again. I wanted to move to Liverpool, wanted it to be early 60s again, I wanted to hang around with John, Paul, George and Ringo on Penny Lane. I wanted to change my name to Michelle. I think it was then that I decided that my place was away from my native country. It did take quite some time for me to make the move, 15 years to be precise. Worth the waiting, I’d say.

But from time to time you wonder if you made the right choice, if you wouldn’t be better off still at home, still seeing the same places you’ve seen since birth, if the place you are really is where your heart is. Well, today I’ve met some people that reassured me that I am where I’m supposed to be. I went to watch a documentary about an amateur boxing club at north inner city Dublin and after the screening we could meet the people involved in the filming. My kind of people.

Not posh, snobbish people wasting money like water or toilet paper. They were Irish working class, the thick accent, the wit, the street wisdom, not thinking they were worse or better than any one else. They embraced immigrants, helped them, support people who otherwise wouldn't have any opportunities in life. It reminded me of the people I wanted to meet when I moved here, it showed me that not everyone here is ashamed of being Irish, pretending to be American or English or French, or anything else. They are who they are and they are happy to be themselves.

And I know it is a big stretch from Beatles to immigrants boxing in Dublin, but they both make me feel sure that this is home and that this is where the heart is.

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