Happy new year to me!
Exactly 365 days ago, I raced through Gatwick Airport's immigration hall, laboriously hauling four bags containing all that I would bring to my new life from my old one. I triumphantly approached a familiar face with scruffy blonde hair, but at first the face did not return the recognition. As Nick had to go to work after picking me up, he was adorned in airport attire, and therefore had previously received countless passenger enquiries for directions and was impatient with anyone who approached him. But that grimace quickly turned to a grin as we both realised that we found the one person we wanted to see most, and after five years (and one frustrating airport delay later) of patient--sometimes agonisingly so--waiting for our dream to come true.
I’ve been here for a year.
For months leading up to this day, I’ve wondered what I would say about this milestone. Would I describe it as a difficult journey? At times, yes. At my bravest, I’ve ventured into the post-graduate realm of Career and bargained with my new bosses to give me a challenge worth my paycheque (now, of course, I endeavour to see that they give me a paycheque worth my work!). I swallowed my shyness long enough to make a few rather wonderful new friends. I’ve mastered the art of public transport, and my mother-in-law sheepishly admitted that I know my way around our grocery store better than she does. I’ve even done okay with converting measuring units into metric.
But at my worst, I’ve slinked by my bedside and sobbed uncontrollably after looking at photos and messages from my family. I’ve resented being here only because I couldn’t be there when my brother was wounded in Afghanistan and I missed the birth of a niece and nephew and the wedding of a very treasured brother. I grappled with the temptation to argue with skewed logic with Nick (never a good idea!) that my family is more numerous and therefore needs me to be there for them more somehow. I have desperately missed the convenience of phoning up my dearest friends for coffee to gossip about our latest adventures. And, let’s face it, I really miss Taco Bell [although they have recently opened two UK locations! - they are too far for us to reasonably travel for a #7 Combo. Even for me.].
But time and again, I can’t escape the fact that where I am is the place I was destined to be. It is irresistably peaceful to have a home with virtually only one thing you ever wanted and couldn't have--whilst missing out on all the things you loved all your life--and still have the sacrifice be worth it, every single day.
I hear from other seasoned expatriates that this feeling of living between two shores never goes away. I have two homes now, and my heart is forever split between the UK and US. I love them both for their charms and their vices. I don’t know whether we’ll be able to make a living in two countries multiple times, but while we’re still young, the idea appeals.
So at the close of this reflection of mine, credit most certainly has to go to everyone in my life who has been supportive of me. My hometown family and friends have all celebrated the big step even though I know it was mixed with a heap of sadness--and I know, because I feel it, too. And Nick has been the one who held me through every batch of tears and whose goodness has made up for this enduring heartbreak for all the American love for which I yearn.
It's been one incredible year, and I can only see that I will grow accustomed to the things which are still uncomfortable and difficult, and adapt to new things for this next year. I am more appreciative now of where I came from and those who helped to shape me into who I am. I never would have made it here without it.
Here's to all the people in my life who I love and cherish, no matter how far you are.
I’ve been here for a year.
For months leading up to this day, I’ve wondered what I would say about this milestone. Would I describe it as a difficult journey? At times, yes. At my bravest, I’ve ventured into the post-graduate realm of Career and bargained with my new bosses to give me a challenge worth my paycheque (now, of course, I endeavour to see that they give me a paycheque worth my work!). I swallowed my shyness long enough to make a few rather wonderful new friends. I’ve mastered the art of public transport, and my mother-in-law sheepishly admitted that I know my way around our grocery store better than she does. I’ve even done okay with converting measuring units into metric.
But at my worst, I’ve slinked by my bedside and sobbed uncontrollably after looking at photos and messages from my family. I’ve resented being here only because I couldn’t be there when my brother was wounded in Afghanistan and I missed the birth of a niece and nephew and the wedding of a very treasured brother. I grappled with the temptation to argue with skewed logic with Nick (never a good idea!) that my family is more numerous and therefore needs me to be there for them more somehow. I have desperately missed the convenience of phoning up my dearest friends for coffee to gossip about our latest adventures. And, let’s face it, I really miss Taco Bell [although they have recently opened two UK locations! - they are too far for us to reasonably travel for a #7 Combo. Even for me.].
But time and again, I can’t escape the fact that where I am is the place I was destined to be. It is irresistably peaceful to have a home with virtually only one thing you ever wanted and couldn't have--whilst missing out on all the things you loved all your life--and still have the sacrifice be worth it, every single day.
I hear from other seasoned expatriates that this feeling of living between two shores never goes away. I have two homes now, and my heart is forever split between the UK and US. I love them both for their charms and their vices. I don’t know whether we’ll be able to make a living in two countries multiple times, but while we’re still young, the idea appeals.
So at the close of this reflection of mine, credit most certainly has to go to everyone in my life who has been supportive of me. My hometown family and friends have all celebrated the big step even though I know it was mixed with a heap of sadness--and I know, because I feel it, too. And Nick has been the one who held me through every batch of tears and whose goodness has made up for this enduring heartbreak for all the American love for which I yearn.
It's been one incredible year, and I can only see that I will grow accustomed to the things which are still uncomfortable and difficult, and adapt to new things for this next year. I am more appreciative now of where I came from and those who helped to shape me into who I am. I never would have made it here without it.
Here's to all the people in my life who I love and cherish, no matter how far you are.