I’m an expat.
Moving around, feeling free AND comfortable is what i crave for.
I remember being 8 years old, sitting in our little suburb bungalow, watching television (way too much of it, due to accute boredom) and thinking — “there must be a way to see the world, outside this TV screen!“.
This must have been the 38 years old me,
sending messages telepathic messages to the 8 years old me.
10 years later, some days prior to hit my majority, off i went to my first destination, Montreal.
Not knowing it, i was driven by my instinct, my wanting to feel free, and expressed.
Flying out of the parental nest, knowing no one except my room-mate, a soon-to-be-expat i was. Moving through this unknown city, i went on until the day i found myself bored again, some years later, feeling like i’ve seen it all, or enough of it, like there must be something more to life. It was time to move again.
I was ready to jump and see more of the world, even if it meant to leave all i had behind.
Adventure. That is what i always craved for.
In a culture where the majority holds on security, and the false illusion of it, i was the boho-weirdo, the unrealistic, unpredictable ‘artist’. I was told i should be more rational, think in more ‘realisic’ ways. My mom must had a sense of what i craved for, because even with all her cautious advices, she helped me unfold my wings, supported every decision i made, even if it must have kept her awake too many nights.
I could have behave ‘realistically’, listen to everyone, only to end up unhappy, like most people seemed to be.
Unhappy in their work, in their life, and in denial of it. Trapped by obligations which they did not sign up for.
I could feel the regret they avoided. Their answer to their own pain was to secure themselves by pointing me the ‘safe’ way, so i would not disturb their illusory peace.
At the time, i felt all of that, but could not verbalise it. I went on with my instints and left.
Germany.
Montreal.
Paris.
South of France.
And now preparing for the next stop. The next destination.
The world i want to see, the life i want to live, outside the TV screen.
* * *
This Huffpost article made me think.
It made me realize that i belong somewhere: nowhere.
Here, and there. Un-trapped. Free. Moving.
I belong to a group of adventurers who grow their own roots, build their own nests, anywhere they go, placing their faith in their own hands.
We want it all. We can choose it all.
No one ever told me, but i know now that we can choose. We can create Freedom AND Comfort altogether. We can have it all.
We are alive, everyday, at every moment,
always on the look for other loose members of the this tribe of new nomads.
Expats tend to be adventurous, to be risk-takers. After all, they’ve already left their friends, their homes, their comfort zones and probably most of their possessions in another country to begin a new life abroad. That takes guts. It’s only a certain type of person who’ll do that.
Another thing you notice about expats is that, regardless of the fact that they might have been living in their adopted country for five, or 10, or 20 years, and that they’re holding down full-time jobs, and have maybe even started a family, they still seem to live life as though they’re on a permanent holiday.