I swear, the people who are the absolute worst about the whole “but where are you actually from?” are fobby uncles. Like seriously, random uncle at the airport, back off.
My neighborhood held a happy hour to encourage neighbors to meet each other. I ended up having a really long conversation with an older lady about many many things. Some interesting things she said:
"You seem to carry a lot of guilt. You haven’t done anything wrong." (I talked about my implicit part in the class disparity in San Francisco)
"I’ve found that as you get older you realize you’re still the same person and all the numbers people say [regarding their age] don’t really mean anything"