When Your Mother Tongue No Longer Feels Like Home
You hang up the phone and sit there for a moment, staring at the screen.
Halfway through a conversation with your mother, you paused, searching for a simple word. A word you had used every day for years suddenly felt as though it had disappeared behind a closed door. A few seconds later, the English equivalent came to you effortlessly.
You smiled to yourself—a little sadly—and wondered, “What’s happening to me?”
If you’ve lived away from your home country, this moment may feel familiar. It’s that unsettling realization that some words in your native language no longer come as naturally as they once did. For some people, it’s upsetting. It can even bring a quiet sense of guilt, as though drifting away from your language means drifting away from your roots.
But the reality is different.
This isn’t a sign that your memory is getting worse. It’s a sign that your brain has adapted to a new environment.
When you spend your days working, shopping, writing emails, attending meetings, and even thinking in another language, your brain naturally strengthens the pathways it uses most often. That’s why a word that once came effortlessly might now take a little longer to find—not because it has disappeared, but because it’s no longer the route your brain reaches first.
But that’s only part of the story.
What troubles many migrants isn’t forgetting a few words. It’s the feeling that comes afterwards.
You don’t sound quite like you used to.
Your jokes don’t land the way they once did.
You find yourself moving back and forth between two languages while telling a story.
Some emotions still feel possible only in Persian, while others seem easier to express in English.
It can feel as though neither language is a complete home on its own.
From a psychological perspective, language is much more than a tool for communication. It is part of our identity. It’s how we build memories, express love, grieve, get angry, and make sense of who we are.
So when our relationship with language changes, it can feel as though our relationship with a part of ourselves has changed as well.
Many migrants describe feeling as though they are standing between two worlds.
In their new country, they still have an accent.
Back in the country they left, they sometimes find themselves searching for familiar words.
They don’t feel they fully belong here, yet they’re no longer exactly the same person they were before they left.
This isn’t failure.
It isn’t a loss of identity.
It’s a natural part of living between two cultures.
You may pause a little longer to find certain words today, but you are still the same person who dreamed, loved, laughed, and cried in that language. Those memories are still there. Sometimes the path back to them is simply a little longer.
Instead of fighting this change, perhaps we can see it for what it really is: a sign that our inner world has expanded.
Today, your mind can move between two languages.
It can understand two cultures.
It can hold two different ways of seeing the world at once.
That doesn’t take anything away from who you were. It simply adds another layer to who you are.
So the next time you find yourself searching for a Persian word in the middle of a conversation, try not to judge yourself too harshly.
That word isn’t lost.
It simply lives in a mind that now calls more than one language home.
At Hamzaban, we believe migration is about far more than moving from one country to another. It reshapes our relationship with ourselves, our language, and our sense of belonging. If you recognized a part of your own story in these words, know that you are not alone.
We’re here to walk alongside you in your own language.