When Home Hurts

Ask any immigrant parent about their decision to rebuild their lives far from their turbulent home countries, and they will tell you that they want their children to experience a stability they never felt; a peace they never lived through; and an identity they never had.

I've been blessed to study, work, and live in Europe, North America, and the Middle East. Such experiences made me grow as a professional and a person. And whether as a single man, a husband, or a father, nothing beats feeling safe enough to enjoy life in all its moments—the pleasant ones, the exciting ones, even the boring ones.

But sometimes, like during this fall season in Canada, I still feel pulled back to a place that no longer shapes my daily life—and yet has shaped me in ways that may never be fully understood. Being a first-generation immigrant comes with layers of complexity, especially in a world that can feel more Volatile, Uncertain, Complex, and Ambiguous than ever.

The World Is VUCA

Is it just me, or does our planet feel like a ship caught in a storm without a clear direction? Global instability, economic upheavals, social tensions, and rapidly evolving technologies have brought us to a place where the only constant is unpredictability. I never imagined I would get to see the place I once called home become unrecognizable. And it’s not just Lebanon: so many people today are navigating similar realities, whether they come from Eastern Europe, Africa, or Latin America to name a few.

We may have routines, workplaces, and plans in our new home countries—but for those of us who still have close ties to countries facing crises, this VUCA world is personal. We live it twice over: once in our current lives, and once in the lives of loved ones back home. Being an immigrant today is challenging, even when times are peaceful.

Silent Responsibility

Living between two worlds, immigrants carry the weight of what they left behind while trying to start a new life. When I first came to Canada, everything felt uncertain. I was building a foundation from scratch to make sure that my son would never have to feel that same level of unjust instability. But no matter how much we strive to integrate in our new homes, there is always a part of us tethered to where we came from.

As immigrants, we often carry that responsibility silently. People see us in our new lives, working hard, assimilating, and thriving—but they don’t see the weight of what we bring with us. For many, that weight grows when there is hardship back home. We don’t stop worrying just because we’re physically distant. It just might be the opposite.

Watching From Afar

Imagine drinking a cocktail of helplessness mixed with worry and guilt: that is the sour taste of watching a crisis unfold in your homeland—it is a unique beast that is hard to explain. There is almost a feeling of betrayal, like you’ve escaped something that others can’t. It is not just the people who suffer, but the culture, the landscape, and the life that raised you.

For many immigrants, their newfound countries are places of peace and possibility. But for me, Lebanon is the place that built me, taught me resilience, and formed so much of my identity. Watching it suffer now is like watching a part of myself suffer, too. It feels strange to wake up in a comfortable home, go to work, and carry on—knowing that family members, old friends, and places I know are facing struggles beyond what I can help or control. And yet, I have to show up for work, for family here, and keep my mind in the present.

In times of crisis, your colleagues, friends, or even people in passing may not understand what is behind that extra stress or distant look. It’s not easy to say: “my homeland is falling apart” especially when it feels like others would not fully understand the struggle behind those words. But acknowledging this unique situation is important because, if we don’t recognize it, it can silently affect our well-being.

How to Navigate This

So, how do we handle this emotionally? How do we, as immigrants, manage to carry this weight without letting it weigh down every aspect of our lives?

First, be open with yourself about what you are feeling. It’s not a weakness to acknowledge the weight of watching from afar. Too often, we’re taught to keep pushing through. But real resilience comes from honoring what you’re going through, not brushing it aside.

Next, talk about it with those you trust. You don’t need to carry this alone. Share your feelings with close friends, family, or even a colleague you trust. Sometimes, all it takes is someone listening, and for you to feel heard and understood. People don’t need to know the full story to empathize—they just need to know it is affecting you.

At work, there may be moments when the weight feels especially heavy. In those times, don’t hesitate to lean on the support of mental health resources made available by your employer, or even speak candidly with a manager if that is possible. Some people won’t understand, but some will—and they might surprise you with their empathy.

Also take time to disconnect. I know this is hard when there’s so much you want to know about what’s happening back home, but a constant stream of bad news will only heighten your anxiety. Allow yourself to step away from your phone, even if for a few hours every day.

Finally, allow this experience to strengthen your empathy for others. When someone else is struggling, you’ll know how to support them better because you’ve been through it. You’ll be able to recognize the signs of someone carrying an invisible weight, and you’ll know what it means to offer kindness and understanding.

Accept Your Situation

Your experience is unique, and it is normal for it to feel complicated. Being an immigrant in a crisis-driven world—especially when your homeland is going through hardships that feel relentless, means living in multiple realities. This is not something everyone will understand.

But remember this: what you are going through is also a gift. Immigrants are part of a legacy of resilience and, while it is hard to watch hardship from afar, it is such experiences that make us stronger, more compassionate, and more valuable than ever.

So to my fellow immigrants around the world: hold on to the people you love in your current home, stay connected with those back in your original home, and take care of yourself. This journey is not easy, but it will shape you into who you are destined to become. And in a world that needs more empathy, we immigrants are the ones who can bring it.

We got this.

Rabih El Khodr is an internationally renowned keynote speaker, organizational learning expert and leadership retreats facilitator. Having spoken to audiences in multiple countries, trained thousands of corporate professionals and made them laugh in several languages, Rabih helps leaders navigate workplace dynamics, build resilient teams and drive cultural transformation through psychological insights into organizational behavior. He is the author of the weekly newsletter "The Corporate Psyche" where he explores the mental and emotional forces shaping workplace decision-making and behavior.