When I was six years old, my parents told me that we were moving back home to Armenia. I didn't really understand what was happening. My father had stopped playing football, and he was at home all the time.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
We lived in Colorado, and my parents were outdoorsy mountain people. My father would always say, 'Go out and don't come back until you have something to show me.' Which meant he wanted me to come back with a scraped knee or an injury. When I went out to play, I felt like I'd better get hurt.
But I am Armenian and I understand what it is to lose a country and lose a family and have massacres and genocides and everything against my people.
I was born in Nizhny Novgorod to a very poor family and unfortunately my father and mother separated when I was very little.
When I returned to Armenia after four months in Brazil, I was still quite skinny and weak, but I had technique and skill.
My parents separated soon after I was born, so I left Helsinki when I was a year old. My mother took me to Paris and then other places throughout Western Europe.
I was raised with a huge Armenian influence, always hearing stories of Armenia, celebrating Armenian holidays.
When I was nine years old, my family lost our home, and the six of us moved into my grandparents' converted garage.
Mum and Dad split up when I was nine. We upped and moved from London to Sussex, and suddenly I went from an urban life to nothing in the countryside - with a new father and new life.
We moved to Gambia from Sweden when I was six years old because my dad was from there. It was definitely a culture shock.
In 1989, when I was just a baby, we moved to France because of some conflicts that were brewing in Armenia.