I have wrestled with the concept of belonging for many years. Since leaving my South African home at age 23, I have been singled out as not belonging. In NZ, in the UK, and now Australia. And I guess it bothered me enough to write about it endlessly and withdraw into myself on enough occasions. Then, a few years ago, I met up with a journalist who was writing about her own explorations into belonging. We drank our herbal teas and shared experiences instead of chocolate cake, and it was enjoyable enough to say we’d stay in touch. But somewhere between saying goodbye and driving home, I had an unexpected…