I sometimes look in the mirror and wonder how I got here. My head is full of random threads, unfinished impulses and loose ends. My mind, my personality and my identity are all shaped by the cultural confusion of being born and raised in Sweden, and then living for twenty five years away from home.

On my journey I met people I loved; they shaped and influenced my personality like the sea polishing the pebbles on the beach.  But still there is a strong tie to the homeland; long threads that bind me to my native culture, deep undercurrents that always seem to pull me back homewards. These do not go away, they ghost my being. I am a permanently displaced and dislocated person.

This bicultural displacement is both enriching and perplexing. How do I keep hold of myself in this complex jumble of cultural threads? How do I stay sane when my head feels like it is going to burst from these two gravitational pulls of belonging?

I am held in a constant tension. I thread, unpick and re-thread cultural influences and counter-influences, past, present and future. My existence can fray and unravel, so I am constantly mending it, constantly minding it.