Can’t believe it’s been so long since I left my beloved island and home of 15-plus years, Bahrain.
Not a day goes by that I don’t miss it. The memories lay dear to my heart and hopefully one day I’ll get my son Amari over to see where mummy lived the other half of her life.
Missing my friends extra amounts today.
And now it’s been three whole years.
Three years since I packed up my life and left the place I called home. Three years since I said goodbye to my little island, my little sanctuary, my Bahrain.
And honestly, I don’t think I ever really grieved leaving.
I don’t think I ever gave myself the time to sit with it, to cry, to understand that I wasn’t just leaving a country. I was leaving a version of myself behind. A life I had known. Familiar streets, familiar faces, familiar sunsets. The comfort of knowing exactly where I belonged.
Life moved so quickly afterwards that I just kept moving with it. And somehow, three years have passed.
Three years of learning. Of changing. Of growing. Of losing people I thought would be in my life forever, and finding people I never expected who somehow became family. Some people came for a season, some stayed, and some left footprints on my heart that I’ll carry forever.
But through all the changes, one thing has remained exactly the same: Walla, I miss Bahrain.
I miss Tea Station.
I miss evenings by the beach with my besties, when time felt slower and life felt lighter.
I miss a cheap shawarma with a Mirinda.
I miss pedicures that didn’t cost the earth.
I miss a proper salon day.
I miss happy people and familiar faces.
I miss no tax.
I miss someone pumping your petrol for you.
I miss the little luxuries I never realised were luxuries until they were gone.
I miss my friends. I miss the laughter. I miss the spontaneity. I miss the warmth.
But more than anything, I miss the feeling of being home.
Because sometimes you don’t realise a place is a part of you until you leave it.
Bahrain wasn’t just somewhere I lived. It was a chapter of my life that shaped me in ways I’m still discovering. It gave me memories, friendships, lessons, laughter, heartbreak, growth and a thousand little moments that I would give anything to relive for just one more day.
And maybe that’s what homesickness really is.
It’s not just missing a place.
It’s missing who you were when you were there.
Three years later, I’m still carrying that little island with me.
A piece of my heart will always belong to Bahrain.
My little island.
My little sanctuary.
My first home away from home
And no matter how many years pass, I think a part of me will always be looking back, longing for it.
Natasha Tinker, UK
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