I may have chosen a slightly misleading title. This is not a post about romantic jealousy. Those who know me well, know I’m not usually the jealous type. Sure, I may slip here and there… who’s never done it? And even when I do, my stumbles are far more of the FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) nature – how dare she be having fun without me? – than of the lack of trust types.

But this is not the Green Eye Monster I’m talking about today. Today, I’m talking about the entitlement jealousy. I’ve posted about the concept of home before, and of how, despite being born in England and raised in Brazil, England was the only place where I ever felt I belonged. This is where the first years of my life happened. I will not repeat myself, you can read it all here, but I was never…