So you’ve made the decision to move away from home. Congratulations! Welcome to adventure, excitement and interesting, new friends from exotic places!
Orrrr not.
Now reality has hit. And you’re in this new place. And it looks different. And it sounds different. And it definitely smells different. And you don’t know where anything is. You don’t know anyone. And if you have any hopes of actually making a friend in this new place, you’re doomed to sludge through the superficial chit-chat about the weather or where you’re from for the next several weeks (or months, or years) before any real relationships begin.
I’d like to think I adapt to new places fairly well. I usually give myself a time frame – 90 days for example – in which I could expect things to be weird and awkward and lonely. After that timeframe, I knew I would start to feel more settled. I’d know where to go to buy food. I’d have an idea of how to get around. Maybe I’d even have the makings of a few friends. But adapting well doesn’t necessarily make the adaptation process easy or even enjoyable.
Encountering newness at every turn becomes exhausting. What you used to be able to do on autopilot now requires significant mental and emotional energy.
I may be on my own in this, but back in the States, I generally love going grocery shopping. I enjoy checking out new ingredients, formulating potential meals in my head, and making sure my pantry and spice cabinet are well-stocked. The first time I went grocery shopping in Uganda? It was almost panic-inducing. Not because the store was particularly chaotic, but because nothing was what I was used to. The store layout didn’t make sense to me. An attendant had to pre-weigh all of my produce prior to check-out. Half the products were labeled in a language other than English or even if it was in English, they’d use different terminology. The milk came in bags (??). Not to mention the mental arithmetic of converting currencies to figure out if you’re being fleeced.
It certainly makes me less inclined to go grocery shopping.
And yet, this is it. This is home for the next however many years. And that means figuring out the little things (and the big things) and moving on with life. It means making the effort, day by day to learn. It means constantly pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone again and again and again so that with time, and maybe a little luck, your comfort zone expands, and this new places actually starts to feel like not just a home, but your home.
But what if that doesn’t happen?
What if instead of feeling exhilarating or adventurous, this new life feels claustrophobic or boring? What if your comfort zone starts to constrict instead of expand? And those daily reminders that you’re in a foreign place begin to squeeze in all around you? You attempt to make the most of things, but those people, places, and behaviors that used to keep you tethered back at home are hard to find here – or worse, nonexistent. You find yourself becoming more insulated. You start resorting to old (or new!) behaviors that you know are not great for you, but become essential if you just want to get through each day. You feel trapped. You feel alone. Now what?
You could:
- Call it. Say enough with this whole expat life and return home. There’s no shame in trying something new and deciding that this isn’t for you. But, depending on your family/work/school situation, you may not be able to pull up anchor whenever you see fit. You may be stuck here for awhile, in which case you could:
- Just keep swimming. Maybe it will get better on it’s own. Maybe you only have a few years left of this place and you think you can probably survive until it’s time to move. Not the most empowering of scenarios, but it’s a strategy. It could work. But then again, maybe you think in your head that there’s NO WAY you can manage this for X more years. Something has got to change:
- Make a change. Something is obviously not working for you. You can choose to attribute your misery to the location, and maybe it plays a huge role in your overall well-being, but there are likely other factors contributing to how you’re feeling. Are you taking care of yourself physically, mentally, emotionally, socially, financially, and spiritually? Which area is being neglected? Maybe one, maybe all. So pick one, let’s do something about it.
What’s one area of your expat life that currently isn’t working for you? How is it contributing to your overall well-being (or lack thereof) and how would you want it to be different?
Need a little extra accountability? Drop me a line with your answer. I personally read every reply and respond back!