It’s still early days, but I’ve seen sights far beyond those of my imagination, sung with my eyes closed at concerts I could only dream of and met a string of wonderful people who have lit the way - many of whom once strangers, I now can’t picture my life without.
In April last year, I took a leap of blind faith and moved my life to the other side of the world. Armed with nothing but a one-way ticket, two suitcases and some humble life savings, I had just enough curiosity to outweigh the fear and drive me forward into the unknown. On paper it might have seemed counterintuitive, because right before I left I was incredibly content. I left behind a job I loved, my cat, my friends, my family and my sense of stability - everything I’ve ever known myself in relation to. All of which is to say I left not for greener pastures, but because every bone in my body told me it was the right thing to do. That something bigger awaited, an adventure that would undoubtedly shape the course of my life. It was something I couldn’t ignore.
It’s still early days, but I’ve seen sights far beyond those of my imagination, sung with my eyes closed at concerts I could only dream of and met a string of wonderful people who have lit the way - many of whom once strangers, I now can’t picture my life without.
I’ve cried a lot, and laughed twice over. Everything I thought I knew about myself, I am in the process of rewriting. Life looks different nowadays. It moves a lot faster and it’s unpredictable, equal parts exciting and terrifying.
I’ve been working on this piece for months, at times struggling to find the words to capture the magnitude of change within myself. I can’t pretend to have all the answers, and this comes not from a place of smug security or rose-tinted vision – at the time of writing I am still very much in the thick of it looking for my third job in 10 months – rather, this is a moment in time and a collection of things I know to be true.
Everything will be more than you imagine. By this I mean it will be better and more fun than you could ever have hoped. But at times it will be harder and sadder than you could possibly prepare yourself for. Putting yourself in a completely new environment heightens your senses and cracks you open. It means life will play out bigger, louder and brighter than usual. Everything feels more intense. Unexpected things happen more frequently. Feelings demand to be felt. At best, it’s 1000% worth it. At worst? Character building. You’ll definitely be funnier and have more interesting dinner party anecdotes.
Friendships will change. This is inevitable. While some will fade for this season of your life, the good news is that the best ones will get even stronger. There will of course be moments where you feel every drop of the oceans between you, but organising a time to speak on the phone will feel like the night before Christmas every time. My advice? Bottle that feeling and hold it close. You’ll also make new friends. People who come into your life in the most random and unexpected ways, but soon become a firm fixture. The kind of wonderful you cannot imagine your life without. This is one of the best things about moving overseas, and will serve as a regular reminder of why it’s all worth it. Because let me tell you, there is SO much fun to be had and paths to be crossed that will change your life irrevocably, for the better.
You’ll surprise yourself with your own resilience. Things that once upon a time seemed really big, you’ll just take in your stride. New country, new house, new friends, new job? No biggie. You’ll wake up one Saturday morning, head to the gym, meet a friend for coffee, and go for a walk all without using Google Maps and you’ll have a moment where it really sinks in. How everything that once seemed big, scary and new, now feels normal, safe and familiar. Moments like these are the building blocks of home.
Homesickness is not what you expect. Ever the amplifier, it will creep up on you in different ways. It’ll sit next to you on the last train home. Follow you into the bathroom at work. You’ll often find it at the bottom of a bottle of wine. Or when you’re lost at the supermarket. Homesickness treats my other emotions as a vessel. A lingering constant, it is the canvas against which the rest of my life plays out. Heartbreak cuts deeper with the absence of friends who would once have held you tight and mopped up your tears. 2pm stress ties you in knots of frustration and helplessness, because while you need your parents’ advice they are fast asleep on the far side of the world. Anxiety and uncertainty push you into the rose-tinted nostalgia of a previous life that was stable, safe and predictable.
Having said all this, homesickness doesn’t rule my life by any means. I’m still learning about the curious ways it presents itself, but it’s a constant reminder of the people I love so much and how lucky I am to have something worth missing.
Your intuition will demand to be heard. At a time where not a lot makes sense on paper and you have more questions than answers, your intuition becomes your most reliable compass. Coming down from the chaos of survival mode, curating your life is an iterative process, almost like rearranging a puzzle till the pieces fit in a way that feels right to you. On that note, some of your bigger realisations will come once the dust settles and the adrenalin wears off. Leaving a permanent job just a few months in might have appeared nothing if not counterintuitive, but I’ve never looked back, which brings me to my next point…
…your sacrifices will drive you forward. Knowing what you gave up to be here is a constant reminder that you need to be intentional – with your time, your work and your relationships. You must keep making decisions according to your compass of what feels right, following your heart so closely logic has no choice but to catch up. Logic is a useful tool for survival, but you mustn’t let it stop you from changing your life.
Goodbyes don’t get any easier. This one is a real stitch up because in some ways they actually get harder. Knowing what to expect means you know what that drive to the airport is going to feel like. The nervous chatter, avoiding the suitcase sized elephant in the room. Waiting outside the security gate until the last possible moment. Faces crumpling. No words. Yet truer words were never spoken. Because in those moments, the gravitas of what it is to love someone, to love a place so hard, it floors you. This is what my granny would call the shadow side of love. Moving away means you’ll become more familiar with it than you ever wanted to be, but that’s the price you pay for an adventure.
No one sticks to one side on the footpath. This isn’t a metaphor, just a fact. Londoners are great at sticking to one side of the escalator, but as soon as you’re out of the tube station it’s free-for-all. The awkward footpath dance is a daily occurrence, but you only have to walk through Waterloo Station at rush hour avoiding eye contact to understand how it all works.
The grass is not greener. It’s what you do with that grass that matters. This is all that matters wherever you are, living overseas or not. But sometimes it takes the false notion of moving away from your problems, to realise just how much control you had to change them in the first place.
Voice notes are wonderful. Unhinged voice notes truly are the backing track to my London life. The longer the better. They are, and I don’t say this lightly, the cornerstone of my long distance friendships.
Progress will not feel linear. Living overseas is weird. Starting your adult life again from scratch in your mid-twenties is weird. You have a proper grown-up job but only one pillow and no duvet cover for your king-sized bed. You’re still hanging wet clothing from the curtain rails, but sometimes you go out for dinner three times in a week.
Far from the traditional markers of twenty-something success, there is an unexpected freedom to be found. Progress starts to look like going for a walk and not getting lost. Saying yes to something outside your comfort zone. It looks like buying the essential household item you’ve been putting off for months. It’s starting a new job, again, and again, and again. Everything you thought you knew about progress, you will rewrite.
It’s hard to sum up a year as big as this one, in a way that does it justice. Because it has been so many things - tremendously fun, challenging, confusing, thrilling, happy, sad and life-altering all at the same time. Everything I bargained for and more.
But I will say this.
I’ve never felt more alive or more sure I’m where I’m meant to be at this moment.
See, this isn’t the first time I’ve sought out home somewhere far from it, but I’ve fallen into a sense of belonging much quicker than expected, and that feels quietly significant amidst the chaos and uncertainty of this mad London life.
To be continued…
Eva x
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