28

In a few short weeks I will be 28 years old. 28 is a complicated age for me. When I turn 28 I will have lived as many years on this earth without my mother as I have with her and sometimes that is a difficult thing to bear. As I get older my relationship…

On Ageing

As I have reached my late twenties and I and many members of my social circle inch closer to 30 I am noticing a common theme. People mourning reaching the end of this period of life, people beginning to get anxious about each subsequent birthday that takes them further away from the alleged golden years…

A short letter to my husband

It’s a strange thing when you have been with someone for seven years, living, growing, changing, entangling yourselves in each other to suddenly be without them. We talk every day but suddenly there is a space between us that has never really been there before. With that space comes appreciation. They say that absence makes…

Crossings

I crossed an ocean when I was one year old. I don’t remember it; it was on a plane that took me 10,000 km from the country where I was born. That ocean was a boundary,  a boundary between new and old between native and immigrant. A shoreline of my life, if you will. Often,…

The Year I Lived in Wellington

I often tell people that I hate Wellington and they laugh, I mean who hates Wellington? It is a charming town, full of art and culture and good food. People normally think that I’m joking, but I’m not. For me, it was like a shoe that looks so pretty and seems to fit nicely in…

Immigrants to New Zealand

You Need Us

Sometimes I am amused by the shape that public discussions take when immigration is the issue. It is always, “they are stealing our jobs”, “they don’t assimilate”, “if they don’t like it they can go somewhere else” blah blah blah. Over and over again around and around in circles. Always a crucial factor is ignored…