I was born in Ireland but grew up in England; sometimes it feels I don’t belong with either

As the rain sets in and there is a definite feel of autumn, the heady World Cup summer feels distant. Yet there is one night from that period that still stays with me. For it highlighted my separateness in the place I now call home. The semi-final match with Argentina. It was another sweltering evening with lots of excitement about the big match, but I was not quite sure what to do with myself. I do not follow football – so it was perhaps no surprise that I had little interest in watching the match. But this was a night that perhaps most people become football fans at least temporarily. My children and my husband were all excited to watch the match – so why was I not? The dilemma was that this was an England match, and I was not born in England – but in Ireland. Despite living here in England nearly all of my life, growing up, supporting England in sport was unspeakable. I had been educated about the various ills that England had committed against Ireland and the Irish for years. As I have gotten older, I can think differently about this story and recognise that the conflict is so long ago, breeding division is unhelpful and you should support the country you have lived in, etc. Yet I can’t. READ MOREOne could argue that it was my own experiences of feeling uncomfortable every time someone launched into the Englishman, Scotsman and Irishman jokes, and the various comments that were made explicitly or implicitly linking Ireland with the IRA/stupidity/drunkenness. Or it may have simply been the awareness that there was no one else in this country – bar my immediate family, that I was related to. My family were elsewhere. I became used to being the other. It is like being the child of parents in an acrimonious divorce.So that evening, while my children were at the neighbours with a St George’s cross on their cheeks, I sat alone in my house. It was strangely quiet, I know there are many others in similar positions. There are some people who may not feel safe watching the match and some whose difference is more obvious and who do not have the luxury of ruminating on it. If I were to paint my face with the red cross on white, no one would express surprise. And I know there were groups of Irish in England that night, probably assembled in someone’s house, who did not want to chance a pub, who would be enjoying the Argentinian win, and delighting seeing the old enemy lose. Louise O'Dwyer: 'I was struck by the realisation of what it feels like to be on the outside' And yet, I also knew, I could not really be in that club either. I have not got the right credentials. For a start I have no accent. I can’t properly and confidently pronounce Blathnaid, as my mother could do, nor do I really understand ways of Gaelic games. My contribution to that group would have also been set apart – something other. I know of GCSEs and A-levels, not Junior and Leaving Certs.And so that evening I chose to be on my own – I was not enough one thing, nor another. I heard the rise and fall of the crowds cheering as they gathered around their TVs. I was struck by the realisation of what it feels like to be on the outside of the crowd, looking on and looking in, but never part of it. Perhaps this was a familiar identity, which was not always easy for me to understand.But I understood in that moment that I could not belong with my parents, and yet I also did not belong with my children, and so I sat alone as the light dimmed.Louise O’Dwyer was born in Dublin and moved to England as a young child in the 1980s. Are you Irish and living in another country? Would you like to share your experience in writing or by interview? You can use the form below, or email abroad@irishtimes.com. Irish Times Abroad submission guidelines here. Follow us on Instagram to keep up with the latestSign up to The Irish Times Abroad newsletter for Irish-connected people around the world.