I’m not the only refugee who purposefully admires coffee, because the strong smell is a daily reminder of our home and our culture.
I’m not the only refugee whose heart beats out of his chest when the Bosnian national soccer team plays because I know that it’s always more than just a game.
I’m not the only refugee whose parents’ lives are chronologically split up into three time periods; (1) “before the war” (2) “during the war” (3) “after the war”
I’m not the only refugee that supports others while they fight through disasters and unfortunate circumstances because I know first-hand what the definition of a struggle is.
I’m not the only refugee who purposefully stays in the same room when the war is being talked about… because sometimes the stories are deep enough to give me chills.
I’m not the only refugee who witnesses my parents work hard to not only to support me, but also to support our extended family overseas that happens to struggle in one of the worst economies in Europe.
I’m not the only refugee who runs towards the smell of traditional Bosnian food because (1) it reminds me of home (2) it gives me great pride in my culture and (3) it simply can’t be beat.
I’m not the only refugee who looks forward to Sundays, because that’s the day our families have deemed as “Skype Day.”
I’m not the only refugee who gets homesick when others post pictures of their vacations to the homeland.
I’m not the only refugee who’s extremely proud of where he comes from.
I’m not the only one, but I am one.
I am a Bosnian refugee.
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For more amazing stories visit Sead’s official webpage or Facebook profile.