My mom moved from Ukraine to Italy at the age of eighteen with a one year old son. In that period immigrants were not really well accepted. Well, they are still not well accepted, but the government now learned how to hide it. After five years my mom had me and at the age of eighteen, first my brother and then me, we moved to London. The reason why my mom came in Italy was because life was much easier there, but apparently not enough for me and my brother. No future, no hope, no nothing. I needed to live and study in a place that I knew for sure was right for me, to achieve my goals and ending up with a good job.
Well, here I am, struggling in one of the biggest cities in the world, questioning myself about how all of that works.