The days are counted. The boxes are being filled…okay, really, they’re being mentally filled and the clothes are being mentally sorted and so forth and so on. My first expat experience is coming to an end very very soon, and a month from today I will be watching the Eurovision finals and thinking about my impending flight back to the US.
I’m happy about the move. I want to get back to my career and my life in the US. I want to be closer to my family. I want to start making up for the missed time in my now two year old niece’s life. I want to get back to me, and be the person that my husband fell in love with and married. I don’t think she’s been around in a long time.
That said, there is a large part of me that doesn’t want to leave. I don’t like change, but then who does. I feel like I’m giving up, but I’m really not I suppose. I gave living in Keighley a go, and while there have been some lovely bits it just wasn’t the right fit.
Will I ever find the right fit? I don’t know. I’m going back to be a freelancer rather than a staff interpreter. I’m going back to be Joy’s Auntsy, rather than just Susan’s sister. I’m going back to be a member of the Hounds of East Fairhaven, rather than the director. In a lot of ways, I’m going back to just blend in rather than be in charge and stand out…and that’s pretty fabulous I think.
The photo above is from my first ever foray into the United Kingdom, back in 1995 when I lived in Scunthorpe for six weeks. I remember leaving at the end, not knowing if I’d ever be back to this tiny island, but being thrilled beyond belief to be going back to my life. This time I don’t have a “my life” to go back to, exactly, but I’m thrilled beyond belief to be going home and to have the opportunity to show my husband what real life in America is like.
Soon and very soon. How odd it will be to look back at the UK and not belong here anymore. Maybe this time I’ll find out where I really do belong.