When I was 15 my family made the exodus on a plane out of Singapore. I was certain that I would never, ever return.

I studied, I worked, I wrote, I roamed around with a backpack through other cities without feeling the urge to be in Singapore again (save for the occasional family visit). But one day I decided rather impulsively that it was time; a week later I was on a plane, without knowing why or for how long I'd be gone.

This has baffled everyone. I paid a visit to the old family doctor and he looked at me with semi-genuine horror: “What are you doing back here?!”

I still don't have an answer to that. Maybe the pull to this tropical and densely-populated little country is because a part of me just wants to be here. It’s like reuniting with an old friend after a long absence. Most of the time, I understand this place with a confident familiarity, but at times I feel like a tourist.

Part of my Singapore re-education has been through the lens of travel and food shows.

These shows often describe Singapore as a food haven, with a wonderful local cuisine cohesively made of Chinese, Malay, Indian and other cultures, a place for mouth-watering gluttony. I identify easily with this - I love Singaporean food, and no amount of glorious Kiwiana can take away the pleasures of eating some good, fried carrot cake (and no, it’s not the carrot cake you’re imagining).

I recently read a comment left on a friend’s Facebook album of his time in Kuala Lumpur: “Food-eating capital of the world!” someone, obviously clueless, had written. "What rubbish," I thought, "it’s got nothing against Singapore!"

And that’s when it hit me – that’s the Singaporean in me. I am proud of it, proud to have grown up here. Oh, how terribly clichéd that such a revelation has never occurred before, not once when people I’ve met have asked, “You are Kiwi, aren’t you?”

But it definitely did happen recently when my friend Phoenix was visiting. Phoenix, a stranger-turned-friend who I couchsurfed with in NYC, was now the one backpacking through my part of the world. We were basking in the efficiency of the train system, and swaying about as it weaved its way through the city. I offered a bit of, what seemed to me, mindless trivia.

"You know, the train system in Hong Kong is modelled after Singapore’s. They copied it, even the name."

Phoenix grinned and mimicked me. "They copied it."

"Yeah, it's true!" I asserted.

Then it dawned on me. Someone copying Singapore, and I feel the need to point this out? It’s all clear – I’m back here because I am, undeniably, so Singaporean.

P.S. To be honest, I'm not sure if the Hong Kong rail system is really modelled after Singapore’s. These claims might just come from the Singaporean in me.