Canadian born,

Canadian raised 

but I’ve never felt Canadian.

Yellowknife born,

Saskatoon raised 

but I’ve always felt American.

This is a feeling I can’t explain.

It’s a feeling that has only caused me pain.

Canada is not where I’m meant to be 
only a place I’m forced to be.

All the people in my life
shower me with Canadian pride.
“Elbows up,” they say.

“Be proud to be Canadian,” they say.

“You’re Canadian,” they say 

but I don’t feel that way.

“I’m American”, I wish I could say.

But I don’t.

I won’t.


Because they wouldn’t understand it.

But I understand it.

My entire life, Canada has never felt like home
just a place where I feel alone.

I say Zee,

not Zed.

I use Fahrenheit,

not Celsius.

I write color

without the extra u.

I cheer for stars and stripes

over maple leaves.

I know every word to The Star-Spangled Banner,

but O Canada feels foreign.

When I’m in the U.S.,

I get this soft feeling in my chest 

and I feel at home.

But when I’m in Canada,
I’m tense.

And I feel trapped

in a country
that isn’t home.

If anyone really knew how I felt,

traitor,

ungrateful,

crazy,

and confused

would be the words they’d use.

But they don’t feel the constant sadness

of waking up in a place

where you don’t belong.

This feeling 

of not belonging 

has brought me so much pain

and hurt

over the years.

And I wish I could explain to everyone

why Canada is a place I wasn’t meant to be,

and why the U.S.

is a place I’m supposed to be.

But I can’t.

I don’t.

And I won’t.