The Home That Lives Inside Us

I grew up in Central Texas. Every time I go home for the summer, there is a point at which the heat hits me.

I step out on to the back patio at my mom’s house and feel it burn under my feet. I open the car door and feel the steamy escape of 100+ temperatures even before I sit down and turn the air-conditioning up full blast. My poor, sad cup of Blue Bell melts all around the edges so the chocolate just kinda’ floats in the frothy soup of sea-green mint.

You’d think I’d hate it, but I don’t. In fact, I adore it. Sometimes I get a knot in my throat and I tear up with I think about the way the sun feels on my skin in August. That heat is full of a million tiny memories from a lifetime both in and out of the Hill Country. It’s the heat that calls to me – Welcome Home.

It’s not a given that every person who goes “home” for the summer (or winter) really wants to be there. There are people for whom the trip is fraught with anxiety, stress, conflict and discomfort. Maybe you have a place to stay or maybe you don’t. Maybe your friends and family welcome you with loving and open arms, but maybe you don’t even have anyone back there anymore. Maybe the unhappy memories are too numerous to count and the joyful past too fleeting to even bother to see. It’s not the same for all of us. I get that.

And yet, what we don’t get to escape is the fact that all the places we’ve lived take up residence inside of us. The storage of our memories, traumas, joyful occasions and traditions may be place-specific, but they become layers of what makes us, Us no matter where we go. Like…we’re the home and all that stuff is collecting there inside us.

And this is where it gets complicated. Even if we want to, there’s really no way to ignore all the baggage, the junk, the odds and ins, old snapshots and keepsakes piling up there because we carry it with us.

The challenge we face is figuring out how we sort through all of these experiences, memories and pieces of information so that we can begin to create a coherent sense of home.

Why do that?

Because it’s like a rarely entered attic, whether you tend to it or not the stuff is there whether you tend to it or not. Right now it’s probably just weighing you down. Paying attention to it now lets you see what you treasure as a piece of your home identity, what you can learn from but never want to repeat again and what you can simply let go.

Where do we begin?

Doing this takes learning to pay attention. We can do things like…

  • Noticing what emotions come up for us in a given situation
  • Paying attention to the physical sensations we experience when we engage in certain activities or traditions.
  • Tuning in to see which relationships we approach with joy and which ones we anticipate with dread.
  • Making a mental catalogue of the sites, sounds, smells and sensations that accompany certain places. What puts a smile on our faces? What brings tears to our eyes?
  • Asking lots of questions about what we notice in making these observations. We can get curious and engaged with who we are in the place we call home. We can approach each moment from a state of “This is interesting…” and ask “Hmmm, what’s here?”

I realize this might seem totally overwhelming from the place of kids and suitcases and parents and flights and all the many, many annoying or joyful things that go into a trip back home. But here’s the thing – this is part of our life’s work. It’s part of creating who we are so that we’re better for ourselves and for those around us. And it will feel good to grow in this way…I promise.

Are you ready for more support in finding a sense of home no matter where you go?

Join my mailing list, enroll in one of my online courses in mindfulness for expats or schedule a 30-minute, free, no-obligation conversation to learn more about coaching.

Relocation Season

It’s May and that means a lot of things for those of us living between cultures.

If you have children, their school year is likely coming to an end.

If you’re an expat you may be planning travel or planning on staying put in your host country…both of which come with their unique challenges.

Or, perhaps you’re relocating. You may find yourself in that weird space of not yet leaving, but not quite still here either.

You may be (once again!) asking why you’ve chosen a globally mobile life. Perhaps you’re even wondering if you actually chose it. You might be feeling a little dragged along. You’re likely also reminding yourself of all the fabulous reasons you’ve chosen to do this.

It’s yo-yo mind and yo-yo heart.

This time of year is always a time in which I spend a lot of time thinking about what it means to keep moving from place to place. For many years it felt like we moved almost as soon as we arrived in a new country. We would take six months to get settled, be comfortable for a year and then immediately move towards repacking and planning for our next assignment.

We’re fortunate to now be coming up on three years in Japan. We had one small move after the first year, but fifteen miles from Yokohama to Tokyo hardly felt like anything. Even the fact that the kids changed schools seemed less critical since they were able to visit their new school ahead of time and our middle son had even played a few soccer tournaments there.

Right now we’re at the place of being “stayers,” but we also have lots of stayer friends. Next year we’ll be leavers again. And so it goes, the cycle of expat life. Something comes up, we see it. Something comes up again and we’re right back where we left off. Learning to be wherever we are…while also learning to move through is part of the process.

So, no matter where you are in your international adventure, be sure to check out the tips and ideas I offer in the articles below (recently published on InDependent and I Am a Triangle) – they provide some really important reminders for maintaining balance during relocation season and beyond.

I often find an uptick in individuals seeking out coaching during this time period. Transition is a surprisingly good time to have a coach – the touchstone of someone to keep you focused on your priorities is important when you’re going through change. If that’s you and you’re ready for some gentle, but unfailing support, a space for thoughtful reflection, an opportunity to sort through what is most important to you and someone to hold you accountable to your goals – I’d be honored to work with you. Click here to learn more about how we can work together.

Five Ways Mindfulness Helps Me Find Home

It’s no secret that I’ve found a daily mindfulness practice to be a key ingredient in my ability to manage the ups and downs of our international life.

Despite common misunderstandings about mindfulness practice, it’s really not all that complicated. Mindfulness is quite simply the practice of paying attention and seeing clearly what’s happening while it’s happening.

Perhaps it’s not surprising then that, in the unpredictability of expat life where pretty much everything can feel strange and unfamiliar, becoming more mindful can help us navigate our experiences with increased ease and resilience.

Here are just a few of the ways that’s played out for me.

Mindfulness allows me to practice feeling homesick…and also not homesick.

I make a point of reminding the people in both my personal and professional life that there are no “good” and “bad” emotions. Emotions are neither positive nor negative. Sure – some feel better than others, but ultimately, everything we feel comes from somewhere and serves a purpose in helping us navigate our experiences.

Mindfulness practice enables us to pay attention to what we’re feeling without trying to:

  • change it (what we often try to do when we’re feeling emotions we don’t like),
  • chase it (what we like to do when an emotion feels good) or
  • judge it (what we do when we feel our emotions don’t align with how we’re “supposed” to feel).

When it comes to living life around the world, practicing mindfulness by developing a more reflective and compassionate relationship with our emotions can support us in learning how to deal with whatever comes our way.

Mindfulness helps me see home as a state of being created in my own mind.

Another key element of mindfulness practice, is learning to see things as they really are, not simply as we want them to be. Mindfulness inspires us to ask questions about what we’re witnessing and examine what we find there. While this isn’t always easy, being able to tune in to life as it truly is is a huge benefit of mindfulness practice.

What does this mean practically speaking?

Imagine I’m telling myself, “I hate it here! I’m never going to fit in. There are no work opportunities. This is a disaster!” Mindfulness doesn’t eliminate our ability to feel lost or overwhelmed, but it does enable us to stop and examine our perceptions. I can then start to ask questions like:

  • How much of this is really true and how much of this is a story I’m telling myself?
  • Is there anything that is working right now?
  • What can I learn here?
  • Are there things that I don’t hate?
  • What previously unnoticed options do I have in this situation?

Now, that doesn’t mean you suddenly start loving a place that just isn’t working for you, but it does help you get more creative, offering you the opportunity to make decisions based on a clearer, more thoughtful way of seeing.

Mindfulness reminds me to notice the details.

One of my most treasured benefits of maintaining a daily mindfulness practice is the way in which it has deepened my ability to pay attention to the “small” things.

When we move from place to place, it’s so easy to think that we should be unfazed. It becomes common, I think, to feel that we’re able to adapt at a moments notice and that our unbelievable flexibility means we can make these shifts with little or no disruption to our body or our mental state.

When we develop basic, everyday mindfulness skills, we engage the practice of slowing down and seeing the little bumps in the road. Sometimes small disruptions – the noise outside your new apartment that causes you to sleep poorly, the times you spend hungry because you’ve yet to stock your pantry, the frustration of slow internet connection that means your calls to your best friend are mess of static, feedback and silence – can actually have a huge impact.

When we take a moment to be still and really pay attention, we may notice the physical sensations, the emotions, or the discomfort of uncertainty that live in that space. We learn from seeing those places of unease and becoming mindful of them enables us to make much-needed adjustments.

Mindfulness encourages me to practice ritual.

Before we started our international life, I wasn’t really someone who stuck to a routine. Sure, I attempted to create positive habits (going for a run, reading before bed, etc.), but I never felt much pressure to really keep up with them.

Moving from place to place has made my healthy habits all the more important and my mindfulness practice supports me in staying awake to their significance in my life.

Mindfulness and mindfulness meditation inspire me to establish rituals and routines because the habits themselves (whether seated meditation or simply performing tasks with attention and care) foster dedication. In other words – by committing myself to being more mindful in my choices, actions, observations and interactions, I’m laying the foundation for commitment to other positive health habits as well.

Morning meditation, a daily jog, cooking healthy meals, taking frequent work breaks throughout the day and reading before bed are habits that I rely on during transition to create a sense of inner balance during upheaval. Additionally, when I notice these habits slipping, it’s my commitment to everyday mindfulness practice that helps me return to these supportive rituals.

Mindfulness supports me in building relationships.

A great deal of mindfulness practice is about developing an awareness of our inner dialogue – our thoughts, emotions, and judgments. However, it’s important in mindfulness practice to recognize the way in which our relationship with ourselves (and this internal dialogue) relates to how we connect with others.

Mindfulness helps me to take time with people. It supports me in active listening so that I can better understand how the moving experience affects my husband and children. It enables me to slow down and see better the ways in which those around me may be suffering or the ways in which they’re brought to life by something new in our world.

Moving is almost always a time of great stress. It’s a time when our tempers are short and we’re more likely to lash out at those around us. Mindfulness doesn’t always prevent that from happening (we’re all human after all!), but it can give us the skills to turn back to generosity and kindness when we realize we’ve behaved poorly towards others.

And, mindfulness helps us make friends. Research says that our ability to understand our own emotional experiences makes us better at understanding the experiences of others. That, in turn, makes us better friends – and that goes for the friends we’ve left behind and those we’ll make in our new home.

What about you?

Do you have an informal mindfulness, meditation, or spiritual practice or other ritual that supports you in practical ways as you move? If not, what would it take for you to start something like this?

Share with me in the comments what’s worked for you or what’s sparked your interest in reading this post. Click here to learn more about how I can help you bring these skills into your own life.

Everything’s a Shade of Gray: The Perfection of Imperfection in Expat Life

I remember when we were heading to our first overseas assignment as a family. It was 2009, my husband and I had both lived abroad before, but this was our first time exposing our children (ages 3 and 1 at the time) to the world outside the United States.

I was so incredibly excited to be moving to the Dominican Republic. I’d done a school report on the DR for my high school Spanish class and had been friends with a Dominican exchange student at our school.

It felt like a dream come true. It was our first choice of assignments, I speak Spanish and had high hopes of finding meaningful work and all of our family members are beach-lovers so I knew we would happily bask in the surf and sand.

I felt like it was one of those places that called me, that I was destined to go. It was all meant to be.

And then I remember riding from the airport to our new home. “This is it?” I thought. Old Nissan pick-up trucks held together with duct tape, piled ten feet high with mattresses rumbled past unscathed, perfectly spotless Lamborghinis. Donkey carts full of piña competed for space against motos carrying five or more members of a family, oftentimes the baby dangling happily to the side. Black spilling exhaust, the thumping of merengue behind blasting car horns and screeching tires, potholes and stray dogs and precarious power lines, open sewers all under a blanket of sun and humidity that burned my face and saturated my nose.

Nothing was as I had expected.

And in it’s shocking imperfection, it was perfect. Somehow it already felt like home. Like “a” home.

As with anything – this awareness is not a uniquely expat experience. It’s not something that only those of us living between cultures can see. But, because we live between places we’re made deeply aware of the shades of gray that makeup the world.

It’s the reason that a place with human rights violations can also be a place where we fall in love.

It’s the reason that walking among soaring skyscrapers and pulling up a chair to endless dishes of perfectly crafted foods, doesn’t remove from our brains the knowledge that women are being made to shut up and pour tea in the hallways of those same buildings.

It’s why witnessing staggering poverty breaks our hearts and leaves us feeling helpless, but also enables us to see laughter and happiness on the faces of people who’s lives we know could be much better. And then we ask, “Well, who’s really to say what’s better?”

Of course, it’s also the reason we never fully go back to our passport countries. Because now we see them in all of their never-ending gray. And then we start to see ourselves as part of that. Perhaps we’re gray too. Nothing’s all good. Nothing’s all bad. It simply gets complicated.

The truth is – the only real sign of perfection, is imperfection. Imperfection is the norm (whether we like it or not). Imperfection is what’s real – in the places we love and the people we are.

So why does this sit so deep in the awareness of those of us who move?

Because that dichotomy – of seeing all the imperfections in the places that bring us so much joy and of finding the perfection in the places we never expected to love – gets us closer to the truth about the world.

Living with the truth is so much more fulfilling. It’s what makes a life lived around the world so compelling. We can love somewhere and see its pain. We can recognize how drawn we feel to freedom and mobility, while also acknowledging the deep loneliness that comes from being so far away.

We stop seeing in black and white. We live right smack in the middle. We live both places. We are both places. Maybe it’s not even really gray in there. Perhaps it’s where all the color really lies.

We can never un-seen that…ever.

No wonder we can’t go “home.”

Back to School and Back to YOU!

Let’s face it – you love your kids, but you might…just might…be happy they’re all back at school. Right now it’s possible you look like the lady in that photo…right?

If there’s one thing I hear from friends, clients and colleagues alike right now it’s that a return to the school year means a return to regular schedules, normal bedtimes and a better sense that you can come out from under everyone else’s stuff. It’s heavy under there!

And that means it’s the perfect time for you to turn the focus back in your direction for a bit.

I want you to do that! I love more than anything supporting people in reaching their goals, finding their sense of self and moving forward one step at a time in connecting with what matters most in their lives.

Join me in celebrating this newest transition by taking advantage of my latest coaching program offer.

From now until the end of September 2017, take 20% off your coaching program fees. Click here to see if you’re eligible for additional discounts. Installment plans are available for my 8- and 12-week programs.

If you’re ready to get started – simply email me at jodi at worldtreecoaching dot com.

Have you been thinking about coaching, but you’re still not sure if it’s right for you? Never considered coaching, but now you’re kinda’ curious?

Read what past clients have said here. Or click here to schedule a time to chat with a FREE, 45-minute consult session!

Back to Work and Out from Under These Boxes!

blog-post-out-from-under-the-boxes

Today, with the clouds overhead and the slow drizzle that is another typhoon-season rainy day in Tokyo – I begin to crawl out from under the pile of boxes that has been my life since mid-June. I’m thanking my lucky stars!

Whew! This transition summer has been the most challenging I think I’ve ever faced. This was the first summer I found myself with no childcare, no long vacation away (although we did enjoy 4 nice days at the beach), and no real down time. We went from our home, to 6 weeks in a temporary apartment to now our final destination. I’m worn out….but I am so excited to be here!

And – I am ecstatic to get back into the swing of work. I cut back on just about every aspect of work-life over the summer and I miss it! I miss sitting down to write, I miss my workshops and I miss my group and individual clients terribly!

I’ve also learned so much.

For one – the idea that I could do all of this without childcare was…wrong! That’s a big lesson. Even as my kids get older I find that with lunches and snacks (which is a whole, crazy experience for us beyond the norm – read about that here), and negotiating screen time, and all of their little projects, and all the lovin’ it takes to support these sweethearts who have moved more times than your average adult – WOW! – it’s a lot.

I’ve also learned (again) that work is not optional for me. When I’m not engaging my creative side, when I’m not changing my pace and creating space for people to find their voices through the coaching process and when I’m not writing – I just don’t feel like me. My professional life is not a side-gig. When I set it to the side, I feel the profound and nagging sense of having misplaced my keys or forgotten to turn off the stove.

And, on top of it all, I’ve been reminded of how much learning just goes on and on and on. Sometimes we have an opportunity to gain new knowledge about the way we work, live and love. And at other times, we’re simply being reminded of lessons we’ve learned in the past. That, in my mind, is the most rewarding way to live – never thinking it’s all wrapped up, but rather a series of tiny wrappings and unwrappings every day. And let me tell you – wrapped or unwrapped – I am happy to be out from under all these boxes!

So – let’s get this back-to-work party started! Join me for one of my upcoming workshops, groups or individual coaching opportunities! Click HERE for details.

Life, Money and Globetrotting Episode 4: Creating a Sense of Home

I’m so behind on getting this latest episode of Life, Money and Globetrotting up here on the blog! We’ve moved (again!) and it always seems to take its toll on my professional focus. I’ll admit it – like most people I think I’m a much better multi-tasker than I actually am!

In this episode (our fourth) we talked about Creating a Sense of Home. I love this topic! I am one of those people who thoroughly believes that home is where the heart is. If you can find peace and belonging with yourself, you can bring that into every aspect of your life – no matter where you go. I loved hearing Hui-chin’s perspective on living and working across cultures as a multi-lingual, multi-cultural Tawainese-American and how that colors her sense of home – from food, to work to clothing and everything in between. I also enjoyed sharing tips from my own experience and from that of my most successful clients on how to create a sense of home even as you face move after move after move.

Our Life, Money and Globetrotting conversations are part of a monthly series. You can follow me on Facebook or Twitter to get updates about upcoming episodes. And be sure to check out Hui-chin’s blog Moneymatters for Globetrotters or follow her on Twitter. You can also subscribe to Hui-chin’s YouTube Channel to get regular updates about upcoming episodes.

Thanks for joining us! Our August episode will be live on August 25 at 9PM Tokyo time (GMT +9) and 8AM EST. In Episode 5, we’ll be taking a look at Failure. What does it mean to fail in money and in life? How do we redefine failure so that it works better for us moving forward? How do we come back after our mistakes, big and small?

What’s in Your Expat Tool Kit?

The Expat Essential

There’s this one wall in my house that is both a highlight and a challenge of our international life. It’s our family photo collage.

A display of dozens of people and places, it’s the wall that people walk up to, stare at and ask about when they come over for playgroups or dinner. It’s the wall that reminds us, despite all of the moving, that we come from somewhere. It’s the wall that my children use to educate themselves about their cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents because, admittedly, they don’t see them in person all that often and it can be hard to keep all the names straight.

But, that giant wall of frames is also a challenge because we come and we go and lining up all those photos just right takes time. When we arrive somewhere I get out the hammer, the nails, the step stool, the level and get to work. It usually takes several hours to get everything looking just right. After it’s all said and done, I have my husband come and (hopefully) confirm that it’s all straight and balanced. All the while knowing that, it will all have to come down again sometime in the relatively near future.

When I think about it, the whole thing is so very much a metaphor for our lifestyle.

I look at all those photos and I see our story. We have a history. We go from place to place collecting major life events. Just like anyone (even people who never move) our stories are the layers of life that make up who we are and how we see the world. Even if we’re moving, we keep becoming. Sometimes that can be hard to see because each time we move our story seems to start over. The past can get lost when we say goodbye to somewhere. The future always has a level of uncertainty. And yet – we are still us. We have a history.

But because all of this moving makes our life more complicated, we also have to have a whole additional set of tools to put our story together, to ensure that it’s heard and to reassure ourselves that it will live on. When I begin the slog that is hanging up our family photo collage, I don’t just need a hammer. This is a complex and often overwhelming task that is definitely not for one tool alone.

As expats we need a whole tool box of tools to tell our stories and remember who we are.

We need a (gently wielded) hammer. We must find ways to give ourselves a little push here and there. We need something that makes a difference when things aren’t moving the way we want them too. To create a sense of purpose and passion, we need to feel we have some power over our situation. We must develop the skills to stand up for ourselves and for our needs. We must create a medium for our stories and speak them in voices that can be heard.

We need nails. We need something to make our stories stick. We benefit from telling them over and over again. We need photo albums and journals and Facebook posts and blogs to remind us that the things that happened to us really did happen because without the constancy of place, there’s high potential the stories (and subsequently our selves) will be lost.

We need a step stool. We have to find ways to reach outside our comfort zone and get support in accessing the parts of ourselves that don’t come easily. If you’re introverted, meeting new people can feel like the most dreaded task. If you value your professional life, leaving your career behind to follow your spouse can cause you to feel a complete loss of identity. So you need support. We need something to boost us up to the places that are naturally hard for us to reach.

We need a level. The most successful expats find balance between the various parts of their lives. That balance is different for everyone, but the key element comes in taking time to reflect on what matters to you (and your family) most and arranging your life around those values.

Finally, we need a second set of eyes. There are many aspects of the expat life that feel solitary. Loneliness happens to all of us at one time or another. However, we must surround ourselves with people who can help us find our way, can call us on our bullshit from time to time and can remind us of all the strengths we bring to the table. All those photos on my wall get crooked from time to time. As expats we need that second set of eyes from a trusted person to remind us when we’re off kilter.

It seems like a lot, but it’s doable. In fact, we develop these tools every single day. We do it with patience and attention to the ever-changing circumstances in which we move. And sometimes we face (or make) a big mess.

But, in true expat style, we reach in our tool belt and find just the right thing to get the job done.

Sweet Sadness

Sweet sadness

Sweet sadness.

This may be the most quintessential expat emotion.

It’s the simultaneous desire to go and to stay. It’s loneliness wrapped in joy, blanketed in longing, softened by comfort.

Going somewhere can be so sweet – the new adventure, the new friends, the new food and culture. But staying is so sweet too – all those nooks and crannies you’ve come to love, your friends, the strange things that are now familiar. It’s nice to make a home some place.

And going somewhere is sadness too. Saying goodbye to what’s behind is sad. Saying hello to something new – being the stranger, the language-mangler, the wrong-way-doer – is sad sometimes too.

Sweet sadness.

And what’s to be done about it?

Perhaps the only thing is to feel it. Really feel it. Cry and smile at the same time. Admit that this up and down is both good and bad. Know that the coming and the going both matter. Recognize that you are the person you were and the person you’re going to be. You’re both people…even right now. That’s sweet sadness.

Sometimes we’ll say, “This life is so awesome! I’ll do this forever!”

Sometimes we’ll say, “It’s just too much. I am alone. I can’t do this forever!”

But maybe most of the time we say both. It’s okay. Let’s just admit it’s complicated.

Today I had sweetness in a café lunch overlooking the quiet bustle of a Japanese shopping street with my beautiful three-year-old daughter who says smart and funny things and is right before my eyes becoming my very best friend in the world.

And in her I see my mother’s dimples. And then there’s the sadness. I am here in this new and sparkling world of an often-mysterious culture and an unforgiving language that is the backdrop of cute things made of paper and incense and she, my mother, is back there newly widowed, returned briefly to her hometown to care for my grandparents as they enter what is likely the final months of their lives. And maybe part of me knows that part of me should be there. Sadness.

And the two things are mirrored – mother and daughter and daughter and mother. And it is sweet to be here. And it is sadness not to be there. Those things are both happening. There’s no other way to look at it. It is sweet. It is sadness. Sweet sadness.

So I say – I’ll have both – the sweet and the sad. Because in the end, I think, it must be so much deeper and bigger and fuller than simply having it all just one way.

Seychelles Mama

All The Many Ways You Feel…

My Beloved Emotional Roller Coaster

So we made it! We’re back in Japan after fifteen years away and we’re back abroad after about 18 months in the States. There’s no other way to say it – YAY!! It feels so good to be back to our typical way of living.

I think in some sort of way I didn’t know it would feel this way. Maybe I didn’t even know how much I was missing our international life. Somehow I’m not sure I realized how being back abroad would feel more like home than “home” really did.

But you know what? The most awesome part of all of this is that despite feeling so good about being back – I don’t actually feel perfect! I don’t feel good all the time! I haven’t slipped peacefully back into life here oblivious to the ups and downs of culture shock. What I am doing is feeling all up close and personal with the whole range of thoughts and emotions that come from living life as an expat. Most of them are actually really nice and happy and welcoming, but some of them are, naturally, not sweet and cozy emotions.

Like anyone who is going through a major transition sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed, turned around, confused and exhausted. I’ve been doing this long enough that these feelings aren’t plaguing me all the time, but they’re there – sometimes really big and loud and sometimes just quietly in the background.

As strange as it may sound, I’m finding old friends in the whole host of emotions that live inside me when we’ve moved to a new place. These emotions are so familiar to me during transition. Even when they don’t feel so nice, I’m finding now more than ever I’m able to say, “Oh, it’s you again Anxiety-About-Getting-Lost-Down-Unfamiliar-Streets? Welcome home!”

What surprises me this time around (this is my sixth international move), is that these emotions don’t scare me anymore. I know they’re here. I know they’ll likely be gone soon and I know they may reappear from time to time. They are actually a part of me and a part of my expat experience that feel completely familiar. With all the new stuff, there’s something really nice about experiencing something I’ve known before, even if it is a handful of emotions most people would try to avoid.

And so, with the ups and downs and all the in-betweens, I think I can officially say – we made it! I’m home.