Letters from an Expat Wife
We haven’t talked in a long time. Or so it seems because so much has happened in the meantime. In March I had an accident on the French mountains trying to keep up with my kids. These kids who used to hold my hand afraid of slipping, have now become cheetah’s in ski gear. In my mind I’m still 25, and nobody can convince me otherwise. And yet, there I was lying on the side of the beautiful slope with a semi torn ACL (anterior cruciate ligament).
Ligaments are funny creatures. It takes a second to tear them and months and hard work to get them to function again. In the beginning you are completely crippled, then you start physiotherapy and that gets you mobile and you end with biokinetics. What is that? Some sort of an overpriced personal trainer. Just kidding. But yes, it does work on muscle building and relaxation. Can’t call it relaxation honestly because a stretching session it is anything but pleasure. It does feel great when it’s finished though. So you put up with it.
Needless to say, I had to make some changes in my life because of this injury and as I was trying to get used to those changes, some new ones showed up. Bigger ones. We heard from our company that it was time to relocate. It’s a call you always know will come at one point during your expatriation but somehow you are always in denial about it. During the years you spend in your host country you never behave as if you are there temporarily. Thank god for that. It’s like living your life while acknowledging every minute that one day you are going to die. So, what’s the point? The point is that you are here. NOW. So better start enjoying what you’ve got. And we do.
Telling everybody around you that the moment has come and you are going to be leaving soon is a tough one too. If you have done it well, you have built strong friendships and you have created expectancies for the future. As if you are never going to leave. Exactly! And now you are going to tell people you are going to do precisely that. Leave them. And leave all the projects you have started, all the plans you made. How will they react?
Here is the biggest difference between the expats and normal people who probably would think news like this would be the end of the friendship, or at least a huge crack in it. But your expat friend will be happy for you, will start helping you look for a house or a school at your next destination, will talk you through anxieties and fears you have about the place you know nothing about. She will pour you a glass of wine and tell you everything is going to be alright. She will tell you, you are a great mom, wife, friend and person and you will fix this for everyone. She will do all that with tears in her eyes and with an aching heart because of course she doesn’t want you to go. She realizes she doesn’t know when, if ever, she will see you again. But she wants you to be happy.
Another big burden is telling the children. The older they get, the children will suffer more from the move. Even though they will realize this is actually a very cool way of living your life because you get to interact with other cultures and live in the most awesome places in the world, it also means you have to say goodbye way more than other kids, who live back home, do. A move means they have to leave the idea of a future birthday party they were secretly planning for next year, the dream of a graduation with their classmates, basketball matches they were going to play together. Of course there will be birthday parties,, graduation and basketball games in their near future but not with the people they know, people they trust. It won’t be with the people who were in the dream. It will be with other people. People they have never met before. They will have to start all over again. Be new again. Clueless about where the secretary office is at school or the visual arts class. And afraid if they will make friends again.
Will people like them? Or will they be alone? As excited as they might be for the move, they will want to stay more. Hang on to what they are used to.
Starting over is a big change. A change everyone has to go through in their lives.
As an expat you go through this quite regularly. But it never becomes normal. It never becomes easy to turn around and look at the people and things you are leaving behind. You tell yourself, it’s ok, you will be back. You will visit them again. But deep in your heart you know it won’t be the same. You won’t be a part of it. Simply because you will be a part of something else. Somewhere else. And so will they.
That’s what change means.
If you look at it that way, it doesn’t seem so much different from my injury in a way. When you are happily living your life at your destination, the last thing you want is that something will come along to change it. And when it does, you feel hurt, scared, crippled. It’s your friends and loved ones who will get you up and walking again and make you stronger so you can deal with it all. And when you’re strong enough, it will be time to stretch. And that will hurt. Hurt a lot. You have to keep telling yourself that once it’s over it will feel better. You will feel good and be proud of yourself that once again you did it. You didn’t run away from what scared you but you embraced it.
And just like that… you’re standing.
Until next time!
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