My Dubai Story

Growing up in Dubai wasn’t all Dubai Bling (Netflix reference, anyone?). It wasn’t the glamorous, jet-set lifestyle that you might expect from all those Instagram posts and Dubai’s towering skyline. Instead, it came with a mix of privilege and uncertainty, belonging and feeling like you didn’t quite belong anywhere. Dubai was home, but living on a visa always made me wonder: Is this really home? And then there was Kerala, where I didn’t spend enough time to truly feel connected either. So, there I was, in a bit of a cultural limbo, trying to figure out where exactly I fit in.

Despite those questions about belonging, Dubai shaped me into who I am today. It gave me security, a better standard of living, and, most importantly, a strong personality. After all, if you can survive the traffic here (and the insane road rage that comes with it), you can survive just about anything. Not to mention the humidity, sandstorms, and the occasional torrential downpours that flood the city for an hour and then disappear as quickly as they arrived.

Dubai is a city of contradictions. It’s where the skyline constantly changes, where tradition and modernity collide, and where you can find a mosque on one corner and a nightclub on the next. It’s a place that has its own rhythm, a fast-paced beat that often leaves you trying to catch up. One moment, you’re in a quiet, traditional souk, and the next, you’re walking through a shopping mall where the latest tech gadgets sit next to luxury watches that cost more than your rent. Everything seems possible here, but it comes with its own set of challenges—especially for someone like me, raised in a middle-class family, constantly balancing privilege with the reality of living in a foreign country on a work visa.

Growing up in a middle-class family meant that money wasn’t something we spent carelessly. There were times when we had to budget and prioritize. Fine dining? That meant treating ourselves to a KFC bucket on the weekend and feeling like we were living the high life. I mean, who doesn’t feel like a VIP when the bucket of crispy chicken arrives at your table, right? Luxury? Well, that meant getting 10 dirhams as pocket money to buy something fun at the 1-2 dirham shop. We didn’t have designer clothes or fancy gadgets, but we sure knew how to stretch our dirhams and make the most of what we had. To us, happiness wasn’t about how much we had, but how much we could enjoy what we got.

Our outings, though simple, were a big deal to us. Going to explore the newly launched metro was like we were part of something historical. We’d hop on the train and act like we were in an episode of National Geographic, marveling at how the city had changed so quickly. A trip to the Dubai Mall wasn’t about shopping for us—it was about walking around and looking at all the fancy stores, pretending we were just as stylish as everyone else. Of course, we couldn’t afford anything, but that didn’t stop us from feeling like we were part of the high society. Global Village? Oh, we were there for the photos, of course, trying to get the perfect shot with the world’s largest inflatable globe in the background. The more outrageous the photo, the better. And when it came to eating out, the cafeteria was our go-to because, let’s be honest, dining out with a family of four in Dubai could be expensive. We’d make do with the cheaper options and feel just as satisfied.

Still, Dubai raised me. It gave me friends who felt like family, experiences I wouldn’t have had anywhere else, and a sense of independence that only a city like this could provide. It’s a place that teaches you resilience because life in this city doesn’t wait for anyone. If you don’t keep up, you’ll get left behind. It helped me discover who I was, and more importantly, it constantly reminded me that fitting in was overrated. After all, in a city where the population is a mix of cultures from around the world, why try to blend in when you can stand out?

Dubai taught me that no matter how much you try to fit a mold, there’s always going to be something that sets you apart. It might be the way you talk, the way you dress, or the fact that you can’t tell the difference between a Dubai summer and a blast from a hot oven. But that’s okay. Dubai doesn’t just shape you—it also teaches you to embrace the contradictions and roll with them.

So, while Dubai may not have been the glitzy, picture-perfect city I once thought it would be, it still gave me everything I needed. It gave me a sense of identity, and although it constantly left me questioning where I truly belonged, it became the city that molded me into the person I am today. And in the end, maybe that’s what growing up in Dubai is really all about—navigating its contradictions, embracing its pace, and somehow making it your own.