When we crossed the border to Austria as refugees, 200 km away from my birthplace, I saw a completely different world which I was forced to enter. I was 11. I ate pizza for the first time in my life in the “western world” and I felt betrayed – I felt the lack of not having and being enough. I developed shame for coming from a “communistic country”. I lost my roots. And then I met pride and rage, they became my best friends for a long time.


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