Archives for 2019

I stumbled off the plane, jet lagged and travel weary, and found the line that said “US passport holders”.  A throng of people waited for their visas to be checked. For the first time in a year, I was permitted to choose the shortest line and receive the least amount of passport scrutiny. The man at immigration handed my passport back and said, “Welcome home”. Tears pricked my eyes. I was back in my passport country — a place where I spoke the language, understood the “rules” and would see people who had known me my whole life.

My family and I have made at least one trip home every year since we left in 2009.  While I love seeing family and friends, I admit to having some ambivalence about these trips. By the end of the visit my initial excitement often shifts to feeling scattered and exhausted. Excitement, sadness, loss and joy all swirl around leaving me feeling mixed up. I miss my routines. I feel frustrated that I spend much of the year thinking of the US and then, while I’m there, long to be back in the country that I now call “home”.

From my experience, these are the main challenges visiting home and my ideas about how to manage them.

Returning to my passport country accentuates the feeling that I don’t have a “home”. Each time I return to the US I go through a mini-version of repatriation shock. While everything seems familiar, my time away also lets me see my country through new eyes. Every year something different strikes me — “Who will eat all this food in the grocery store?” “Why are people so busy all the time?” “Why do I have to do so much driving from place to place?” Sometimes I like this experience. It makes me feel like an anthropologist observing my own culture. But other times it just makes me feel like I am still outside looking in, which is often how I feel as an expat.

Tips: The best way to deal with the feeling of being alienated from your home country is by expecting it to happen. I look for the part of American life that now seems different after living away. Then I can happily say “Aha! That’s it this year.”

I have also redefined my concept of “home”. I know that for me home is a concept that I carry inside. It is being with my family; it is a sense of belonging. Physical places are part of my feeling of home but not all of it. The US feels like home but so do Switzerland, and Singapore, and Togo, and Croatia. I know that, as much as I want to feel like I belong as soon as I touch US soil, this is not realistic. I also remind myself that I didn’t always feel at home when I lived there.

I never feel like I’m doing it right. Our first year home I tried to see everyone — all my friends and family. I bounced from lunches to get-togethers, sharing my photos and stories. This came to an end when my children staged a mutiny and refused to be dragged to one more event.  After weeks of non-stop visiting I also felt exhausted and strung out. The following year, we tried the “have a big party and invite everyone over” strategy. While it worked to gather people in one place at one time, I didn’t feel like I had the chance to really connect with anyone. While I “saw” my friends I didn’t really get to talk to them. Each year I try to make adjustments so that I leave feeling like I spent enough time with the people who are important to me. I always leave feeling like I didn’t get it right.

Tip: I realize that not feeling like I did it “right” is more a consequence of living abroad and less about a failure on my part. While there is a lot about living overseas that feels right to me and my family, there is a part that doesn’t — being away from friends and family. Feeling like I didn’t get to see and/or spend quality time with everyone is a reality —  a loss that can’t be made up by squeezing in one more lunch date. This feeling doesn’t occur because I am not organized enough. It is rather an uncomfortable reality of the life we have chosen to live. I try to sit with the feelings of sadness and be kind to myself about what is realistic to do when I’m home.

I no longer have the same relationships with people. When we moved overseas, I thought we would be gone for 3 years. My first few years I believed that my relationships would remain the same — yes I would see my friends and family less but we would pick up right where we left off upon our return. Like many expats, we found that 3 years led to another 3 and before we knew it, we had been gone 10 years with no clear plan to return. When I see my closest friends and family, it does feel like I never left.  But during one of our visits the reality hit me– the actual time I was going to spend with people is short.  I see friends that I used to see daily for a 2-hour lunch; I see family who I love dearly for only one week. That does not feel like enough to me but I am also not sure what to do about it.

Not seeing family on a regular basis means I don’t see the changes that gradually occur. When we finally arrive home, they strike me all at once. I notice instantly how much my nieces and nephews have grown and how much older my parents look. It is startling and makes me feel sad and confused about the choice I have made to live far away.

Tips: Try to be present with people. Try connect and let them know you value them even though you live apart.  I always strengthen my resolve to keep in better contact throughout the year, which is not one of my strengths. I have also encouraged people to come visit us or to meet me in a location that is halfway. While this is not always realistic for busy families, it helps me feel less like I need to be the person to make the journey in order to keep our relationship alive.

I miss having my own space.  I have learned that, while I can adjust to living almost anywhere, I need my own space and routine to feel happy and grounded.  I need down time, a chance to recharge my batteries. This is very hard to do when there are so many people to visit and we are often staying at different houses during our month long trip.

Many expats that I have talked to say that they rent their own place and let people know they can come to them. This has never worked for us due to expense and logistics.

So we bounce around. Two weeks at my in-laws, two weeks with my family, two weeks at the beach.  I live out of a suitcase, am constantly searching for things, and feel scattered and discombobulated. I find myself longing desperately for the normalcy and routine that I complain about all year.

Tips: I try to limit the number of places I stay, even if it means extra driving to sleep in the same bed as the night before. I attempt to keep organized, finding places for my things so I don’t lose track of them. We try to establish some sort of vacation routine. While it is more flexible than our school routine, it does give the day a sense of predictability and flow that I find comforting.

I also make sure to build in down time so I can recharge. For me that means time to read, time to myself and time to exercise, but it’s different for everyone. Find what helps you regain your sense of calm and make a commitment to do it.

Going “home”, whether you are an expat or someone who lives away from your family, is a wonderful but sometimes complicated experience. It is filled with emotions that can sometimes feel paradoxical — love, frustration, joy, nostalgia. While there are some practical solutions that can help make the trip easier, the most important advice I can give is to allow yourself to feel the emotions. Don’t judge the feelings, be easy on yourself and your friends/family. Global mobility has given us complex and rich experiences and with that come complex and rich emotions. If you are travelling this summer, enjoy and, as always, I would love to hear from you.

I feel sad and lonely in a city that is not mine.

I should have seen it coming. The stressors were piling up. I missed my son who is at university in another continent. My daughter was sick and my husband was in bed with a bad back. I thought I was managing things well. I even felt a bit cheerful about my ability to juggle the stress when my tolerance for adversity had recently been so low.

But then, one little perceived criticism set off a cascade of feelings that left me in a pool of self-pity and negativity.  The comment was small. Something that, ordinarily, I would let bounce off me or that I would run and “vent” about with a girlfriend.  But I haven’t yet established the type of friendships here that allow for venting and indulgent self-evaluation. Reaching out to someone far away seemed silly for such a small slight.

As the day went on I felt this little criticism that came from someone else become something I owned and wore like a pair of uncomfortable shoes.  Everything I did was wrong. The joke I made was stupid. The fact that I missed a doctor’s appointment was unforgivably rude. I was boring, I was lazy. I talked too much, too little, etc etc.

At the heart of this conflict was a desire for acceptance.  Acceptance in my new community, a longing for the feeling of home, a desire to be with people who know me and who validate me when I cannot do this for myself.  Where was my tribe? Where were my supports? I have left them scattered throughout the world and I miss them terribly.

When I really pick this apart I realize that this perceived criticism could actually be a form of acceptance. It might have been a way of saying, “You are a part of this community and I will tell you when you do something I don’t like. The honeymoon period is over. You are one of us and can be criticized and talked about just like everyone else.”

For that I am thankful.  But before I can fully appreciate the downs of being accepted I need to increase the ups. How do we survive and thrive when the building blocks of a new life come in such an inconsistent way?  How do we manage adversity before we have built a support network? How do we manage our need to share before we have established trust?

A few things help me.  First, I try to recognize that adjustment to a new life does not always go in the order I want it to. You don’t always have the luxury of making great friends before a challenge gets sent your way.  With time, the great friends will come and the challenge will recede. Being patient with the process and with myself is vital.

Another thing I have learned is that if I am feeling a certain way, it is likely that others are too.  So I look for the parts of myself I am struggling with in other people. I imagine that strangers are lonely and I send them secret messages that say, “you’ll be ok”.  I take a little time to chat with the quirky kid at school who might need extra support. I try to stay connected to the common human experience of people just trying to get along the best they know how.

I also try to talk to myself as I would to a friend. I would never judge or berate a friend for a mistake, especially not a minor one.  I would support her and encourage her. I would tell her she has been through a lot of change and that she is doing a good job. What makes me think I don’t deserve the same respect and kindness myself?

What about you? Have you felt the downs before the ups? What helps you get through? I would love to hear from you.

I never would have imagined that a Netflix horror show would help me relax but, in the spring of last year Stranger Things provided a much needed escape from reality. Every night my husband and I would take our places on the sofa and slip into the world of missing children and monsters as a way to get our minds off the apprehensiveness of our impending move.

As I watched the kids on Stranger Things make sense of the alternate reality they called “the upside down”, I couldn’t help but draw a comparison to my feelings about our move. Just like the inhabitants of Hawkins, I was going along in my normal life but knew there was a different reality out there that I would soon inhabit. It would probably look something like my life now — school, work, travel, laundry — but be different as well. Hopefully it would not be dark, frightening and full of slime, but when I felt fearful, that’s how I imagined it. When my anxiety about our move was at its highest, it was like the Demogorgon coming out of the wall and roaring in my face.

We were in the “in-between” stage of expat relocation. We had decided to leave our current posting and we knew where we were going. I had started to think about packing and to contemplate how I wanted to say goodbye but it wasn’t quite time to start assembling the boxes. My son needed to complete his IB exams and my daughter was still fully engaged with her friends. It was too early to be the end of our experience and too late to be the middle.

I wish I could have been as active as the characters in the show in figuring out how to deal with the “in between”. Maybe I should have given everyone in the family walkie talkies and strategized about how to get through it. Admittedly, I was not in mortal danger like on the show, but I did feel like my life was about to be tossed up in the air and I hoped my family and I would be happy when we landed.  I mostly felt a numbing inertia during this time. “I should start throwing things out, I should make a ‘bucket list’ of last places to visit in South East Asia,” I told myself. Where was I going to find the energy? Every ounce of it seemed to be directed towards managing the tumult of emotions — sadness, anticipation, fear, excitement, curiosity — I was experiencing all the time as well as helping my kids manage those same feelings.

So what helps us get through the “in between” so we can keep from going upside down? Here are a few things I have found helpful from my experience and from lots of reading on the subject of transitions:

Be in it.  I have been through the “in between” several times and it always feels uncomfortable. Part of me wants to hit “fast forward” and just get down to the business of leaving. The other part of me wants to ignore the approaching departure and pretend like nothing is happening. Neither of those choices is possible and I find the feeling of limbo hard. Jodi Harris, the founder of World Tree Coaching, addresses this in her most recent blog, “Expat Life: Living in the Middle”. She encourages us to try to “be comfortable in the liminal space” and to see each moment as a beginning and an end. She recommends “owning that we are in-between people” and that all of life is a series of beginnings and endings. I find her reflections to be a comforting reminder to respect and honor the in-between spaces instead of just tolerating them.

Differentiate between change and transition. In the Preface to the Second Edition of Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes, author William Bridges makes a distinction between a life change and a transition. A change, he explains, is situational while a transition is psychological. Transition involves the inner re-orientation that you must go through to incorporate a change into your life. Bridges explains that it is often transition, not change, that “blindsides” us and without allowing for a period of transition, changes do not “take”.

I believe the in-between time is vital in the transition process. If we can resist the impulse to start doing and focus on how the change feels, we position ourselves to better manage the emotional impact of the change. Processing the shift, imagining our new life, feeling each emotion, even if they are contradictory, helps us integrate experiences and create meaning in our lives.

Rest up. We know from nature that even when fields lay fallow, they are going through a process of rest and regeneration in preparation for the next crop to flourish. Plants often enter into a state similar to hibernation during the winter in which they slow down in preparation for rapid growth.  We also need to take the opportunity to rest between the drama of deciding to move and the turmoil of the actual relocation. Perhaps, like trees, we need to allow ourselves some quiet reflection and emotional reorganization before the rush of the spring-time growth.

Use what you know. Chances are you have been in the upside-down or in-between before. It is almost impossible to go through life without some major transitions. Perhaps you move frequently and have gone through this very process. Or you can think back to when you were waiting for your first child to arrive or had accepted a new job, but not yet started. How do you manage these times? What worked for you and what didn’t? What is your “go-to” emotion or state — anxiety, excitement, denial? Try to use the self-care techniques that work best for you in times of uncertainty or reach out for help if you tend to make unhealthy choices.

The in-between of expat relocation does not last forever. Soon enough we are plunged into the frenzy of good-bye dinners, tearful farewells and the excitement of a new place. Even if it’s difficult and scary, take a cue from the brave characters from Stranger Things who, despite their fear, grappled with the Demogorgon and the “upside down” to save their friend and restore peace and consistency in their lives.

It’s all this manoeuvring and second guessing. Almost as though we have doors in front of us all the time in the modern life as women and each day you have door one, two and three and you have to choose which one you go through and there is that terrible heart-sickening fear that by going through door number 2 you are murdering some essential part of yourself that could only be actualised by going through doors one or three.

                                                                   Elizabeth Gilbert

I can still remember the feeling — the anxious but excited butterflies that fluttered inside my body as my husband and I began to seriously consider moving our family overseas. Is this crazy? Can we do it? Where will we end up? The possibilities seemed endless, the whole world opened up in our imaginations as we wondered, “Where do we want to live?”.

Since that first exciting experience 10 years ago we have moved twice more, each time to a new country and culture. In the beginning of the process, I usually feel the exhilarating rush of “where do we want to go?” but soon the nervous excitement changes to a feeling of overwhelmed immobility. I admit that during the interview processes before our most recent move, I unhelpfully commented: “Just wake me up when it’s time to go and let me know what continent we will be living on”. The magic of having all of those choices no longer felt like a gift but more like a burden.

I think this is why I was so interested to listen to the audiobook The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less by Barry Schwartz. In this book, Schwartz examines the incredible increase in the number of choices we must make every day — from what type of toothpaste to buy to where to invest our money.  While he acknowledges that having some measure of choice and control over our lives is vital to health and wellbeing, he asserts that having too much choice can actually be detrimental to freedom and happiness.

Think of the choices we make as expats. Do we want to take this posting? Do we sell the house? What do we do with the car? Do we try to learn the local language? Local schools for the kids or international schools? How long should we stay? Should we move back or continue to live overseas?  And we must still manage to decide what kind of toothpaste to buy.

This issue again hit home as my oldest child was applying to college. The choice was no longer in-state or out-of-state but where (literally) in the world he wanted to study.  He applied to the US, Canada and England but also considered the Netherlands, Australia and, at one point, Japan. He applied to a huge number of schools and, after a painstaking process, made a decision that seemed to make him relatively happy. Will he get a good education? Yes. Was the vast array of choices a good thing? I’m not so sure. At the time it felt agonizing and overwhelming.

Despite sometimes feeling overwhelmed with decisions, I’m not ready to give up the choices that my international life gives me. How can we keep from feeling paralysed with indecision and regret amidst all of the choice we have? Here are a few suggestions:

According to Schwartz, if you increase choice in one area, try to decrease it in other areas. It’s okay, even advisable, to limit options for decisions that are not as important to you (like what type of toothpaste to buy). He encourages us to “learn to love constraints” on choice and to make some decisions automatic.  This helps us focus time and energy on the choices that matter.

Take time to prioritize what is important to you and why when contemplating the bigger decisions in life. It is tempting to do something because it’s what we are “supposed” to do or because it’s what we wanted at some point in our lives. I strongly encourage people thinking about living overseas to define specifically why they want to make this choice. Identifying your reasons and goals helps narrow the possibilities. If your top priority is interacting with the local culture, perhaps living in a country with many gated expat communities is not the right choice for you. If you want to travel frequently, choosing a job that gives you time off and the salary to travel will be important.

Elizabeth Gilbert in her speech at the ICAN 2011 Women’s Leadership Conference (watch here) encourages us to be gentle with ourselves and to try to be true to our own path. Women in particular don’t have generations of role models to help us navigate the “huge maze of choice” we now have. She says she wakes up each day and tries to, “… do my best with that day. I do my best with what I have there.”

I try to remember that there are no bad decisions. Every choice has something to teach us and the process is often as important as the outcome. While these statements may seem trite, it is so easy to succumb to the fear of what will happen if we make the “wrong” choice. Most of us can point to a “bad” decision that led us to something wonderful later.

Despite the fact that we often feel we have limitless choices, we don’t always get to choose where we live or even what happens in life.  Life sends us curve balls and sometimes choices are made for us. By trying to embrace this, by understanding that endless choice is not always a good thing, we can free ourselves to make the choices that really matter to us.

So the next time one of those big decisions comes your way, press pause for a moment or two to keep the nervous butterflies from becoming an angry swarm of bees. Reconnect with your values and reasons for living an international life. Limit decision making in other areas when you can and remember that every path has a lesson to teach if we know how to listen.

As I sit in my house looking at piles of papers and the few remaining unpacked boxes from our move, I think maybe I should jump on the bandwagon and watch a few episodes of Marie Kondo’s Tidying Up. I don’t make New Year resolutions but I am a sucker for the idea of starting over, or pushing “reset” on life as I like to imagine it. I love to open a new notebook and make a new list, to imaging being my best self going forward. The New Year is a perfect time to indulge in the fantasy that every year I can make myself and my life just a little better.

This is also a time of year that many expats (and those considering an overseas move) are contemplating what the next year will bring. Some of you might be waiting to hear about your next assignment. Others might be wondering if this is the right year to “take the plunge” and make an international move. And still others might be contemplating the question “should I stay here or move on?” How can we use the momentum of the New Year to make decisions that are right for us?

In his book When (reviewed in my most recent Expat Issues Book Group), Daniel Pink offers some helpful tips on beginnings that I believe can assist us on our journey. He believes the key to successful beginnings are to “start right”, if needed, “start again” and whenever possible, “start together”.

Strong Start

A quick internet search brings up a variety of articles about how to make a successful international move. But making such a big move is more than figuring out where to live and how to ship our belongings.  What are some other ways to make sure we start well?

One of the very important issues to examine when contemplating an international move is your goal or reason for moving. While it might seem obvious to you, each expat has a slightly different motivation for making this big change. Are you joining a partner? Do you want to learn another language/culture? Do you want to advance your career and this is the best way to do it? Do you feel like the move is a choice or a necessity?

The answer to why is important because it can impact where you go and how you approach it.  It also provides an important reference point when, in the throws of culture shock or homesickness, you ask yourself “Why am I doing this?”.

Another important way to start right is to examine the fantasies you have about moving.  Before my first move to Switzerland, I brought books of poetry to read as I looked out on the Swiss Alps. There was a small part of me that really thought that everything would be perfect as long as I had a beautiful landscape upon which to gaze. Imagine my disappointment when I realized I still yelled at my kids to get ready for school and still bickered with my husband over directions.

It’s important to take an honest look at how we might idealize a new start. As I frequently remind people, living overseas is wonderful and exciting but it is very challenging as well. In his book, Pink recommends we do a “pre-mortem” or take a look at possible obstacles to our goals.  While this may seem pessimistic, it is could be an important step in not over-glamourising life in another country.

Fresh Start

Some of the hallmark emotions of people who have made frequent international moves are feelings of rootlessness and restlessness. When things are difficult or you feel like you are in a rut, it is easy to imagine that a new location will make everything better.  But be cautious about the temptation to move as way to avoid unpleasant feelings, situations or boredom.  

If you (or your company) decide that this is the right time to move, remember that each move and posting is different. Use what you have learned in your past transitions, but be careful about minimizing the impact of relocation, no matter how many times you have done it.

Group start

Before my family and I moved overseas for the first time, the last thing I felt was connected to a group. Instead it seemed like I was making a crazy leap of faith that left some of my friends and family wondering “why?” I felt like I was leaving groups, not getting connected to new ones.

But it turns out I was wrong. One of the best parts about living overseas is being connected with other people who share my love for new cultures and travel. I have loved building on the idea that internationals are part of a “Third Culture” to which I now belong.

That being said, an international move can be a very lonely and isolating experience. However, there are now many groups where you can connect with other expats, both online and in person. Reach out to these networks and ask people about their experiences. Listen to what they love about their new country and lifestyle and what is difficult as well.

Lastly, try to realistically assess your support groups from home. You might be surprised who thinks your idea to move overseas is fantastic and who warns you against it. When the going gets tough, you will know who might provide support and an empathetic ear and who might (unhelpfully) suggest “Why don’t you just move home?”

To some, it might never feel like the right time to move. To others it might always seem like moving is the answer. Like most things, the answer lies somewhere in between. Read the articles that discuss the practicalities of an international move, reflect on the bigger questions, do your homework but follow your gut. The question of “when?” is ultimately a very personal one but there have been many who have walked this path before you. 

I just finished listening to the most recent Good Life Project podcast, an interview with Garrard Conley, author of Boy Erased. Conley tells a heart rending story (which has been made into a movie) of growing up knowing he was gay in a conservative, religious small town. He was given the choice to undergo conversion therapy or be cast out from his family. I was moved by the courage it took for this self-described introvert to share his painful story with the world.

At the end of the program the host, Jonathan Fields, always asks his guests, “What does it mean to live a good life?”. Conley paused, reflected and then discussed the importance of truth and honesty. He went on to qualify his statement with the assertion that people need to be able to speak their own truth in their own time. Conley said,

Be honest when you can. This is my caveat…You can know something about yourself, you can know your truth but you don’t always have to announce it immediately. You can wait for the right moment. You can develop a strategy. I think there is something that gets lost in #livingyourtruth. Which is: live it, but live it at the right time…There is such a pressure right now especially with social media to be the most intense version of whatever you are…don’t let that kind of mentality shame you.

Wow. This really resonated with me and I made a connection to something that has been bothering me for a while. I sometimes feel bombarded by messages to “live outside my comfort zone”. The internet is flooded with articles about the importance of challenging your personal status quo and achieving your ultimate dreams. From our sports to our schools to our relationships, we are told to push, move, challenge, change.

On one level, I wholeheartedly agree with the call to move beyond what you think is possible. It is important not to become complacent in our lives, to try new things, to look at the world in a new way. I have tried to live my life like this — moving, exploring the world, and taking risks.

But existing outside what is comfortable to us is not always a choice we get to make and is not always a fun adventure that will bring us closer to some idealized version of ourselves. After a year of dealing with a serious medical issue and a move to a new country, I find myself wanting to claw my way back to a comfort zone in order to re-establish a sense of equilibrium. Yes, I have changed.  Yes, I have grown, but I’m ready for some sameness and consistency for a while, thank you very much.

I’m not advocating for a life in which you constantly stay within your comfort zone. This would be hypocritical of me to say the least. But we have to remember that change and challenge need to  happen at the right time and in the right way, whenever possible. A life filled with constantly living outside your comfort zone would be chaotic, anxiety producing and disruptive. We have to make sure we don’t fall for the illusion that, by constantly challenging ourselves, we will reach a state of self-actualized bliss. We can make meaning of our lives now regardless of how exciting or mundane they are.

So when is the right time to shake things up and challenge yourself? How do we walk that fine line between becoming too comfortable in our lives or being constantly overwhelmed? You have come to the right place to explore these questions as I will be delving into these topics in depth in the months to come. It is my hope that this blog will open a conversation we can have as a community. Or you can contact me and we can talk about it one- on-one.

This is a good segue to my next topic, a blog and book review about Daniel Pink’s book When. Stay tuned…

Photo by Alisa Anton on Unsplash

Two weeks ago, I said goodbye to a familiar friend by turning off the voice of my “GPS lady” and driving the streets of my new city solo.  Her voice had become a comforting companion, helping me navigate the tangle of one-way streets and tram crossings as I tried to adjust to my new home.  It felt like it was the right time to say goodbye and maybe find some new (real) friends. However after the third international move in the past 10 years, I find myself wondering, is it really safe to settle in?

When we first started our international journey in 2009, I enthusiastically embraced our new home.  I loved where we lived and got right down to the task of forming friendships, trying to improve my language skills and integrating into the new life my family had adopted. I didn’t focus much on long-term security and what living internationally would really mean.  After all, our plan was to live overseas for a few years and then move back home.

But like many expats, one post led to another and still a third.  I have packed and unpacked, said goodbye to dear friends because they moved and because I moved.  I have sent my son to university in a different continent and asked my daughter to adjust to a third school setting.

So I guess it’s not entirely surprising that, with this move, I have been more apprehensive about settling in.  I love our new city and want to embrace it with a full heart. But I’m scared and reluctant to like it too much, to make friends, to fully commit.

I think the difference is that, with time, I have a come to realize more fully what it means to live away from my home country and lead a life that involves a lot of change and transition.  There is the excitement of meeting new people and seeing new places. But with that comes the sting of having to say goodbye and the longing for the familiar. There is the buzz you get from looking past what is safe and following your dreams. But with that comes a level of insecurity, fear and vulnerability.

At the beginning of our international journey I thought a lot about what we gain from increased mobility, but now I am very aware of what is lost as well.

Yet living overseas feels right to me somehow. I am not ready to move home just yet.  Like many expats I find myself wondering, “What is the answer? How do find the courage to settle in when I’m not sure when I will have to say goodbye?”

I find that the simple process of identifying the dilemma and acknowledging the fear it brings  helps. Looking at the intricacy of our life choices, examining things gained and those lost, brings a level richness to our lives. The longing for a life full of experience is one of the reasons I have chosen a path that is often changing and uncertain.  Yes, to settle in means to risk being hurt but to remain disengaged means to turn away from wonderful people and experiences.

I hope that saying goodbye to my GPS friend will help me start making some new and more fulfilling relationships.  I need to trust myself, knowing I might get a little lost, and use the many skills I have developed since moving. I will find my way.

How about you?  How have you settled into your new home? What have you gained and lost from your life overseas?  I would love to hear your story.