Klimbing Cili - Day _6
Being an expat follower comes
with many different labels: Dependent – Anonymous Spouse – Domesticated
Partner - obviously none really
flattering to my ego! In short I am nothing beyond the walls of my household.
And that NOTHING is the one word that echoes in my head hours after each party,
social gathering or chance encounter and someone from my husband’s realm asks
me: So what do you do??????
You spend the first few years
as a novice expat scrambling through fleeting career opportunities, that
shortly after become just job opportunities, which soon turn into once-in-a-while consultancies.. But you don’t despair. In fact, you are so
busy building your identity as a super mom that your life actually does have a
meaning after all.
Then you hit 40. You breath
and open your eyes, and you relax a bit. 40 isn’t so bad! Even for a career
less, jobless, bored roaming housewife. Kids are fine, healthy and occasionally
happy. Home is a safe warm haven of your own crafting, memories are busy being
woven and your birthday cakes are to dream for!
But then 45 lurks right
behind and the 50s bells begin to chime far in the distance!
You look around you and you
see your kids struggling to fit in, traumatized because your so-called safe
haven has just been breached, under your watch and they were bad people with
big guns. Your kids are addicted to gadgets and their grades are screaming for
the rescue squads. Other parents blame your kids for some crazy problems they
trapped themselves in, and dragged others along and you suddenly find yourself sinking.-
rather sky diving… and 45 is closing in, with 50 right in tow!
You take another breath. You
open your eyes and you just see…. NOTHING!
So being the perfect mom is
quite an elusive prospect despite all the energy that went into it. And your
children are not just imperfect, but they are also unique in a beautiful,
unconventional but sometimes very destructive way!
Even if you pull your mom
thing through and they emerge safe and healthy and with some luck, relatively
happy; in three years they will fly out of your cocoon one after the other. And
you will hold your breath, yet again, hoping they don’t nose dive! And then what?
You are failing,… miserably..
or are you??
OK you breath again.. and
again.. You suddenly decide to shake it all off!!
Being a mom is the most
frustrating journey I’ve ever imagined.. You start off aiming super high. Then
as the years pass and your kids’ personalities start to shape, your dreams
shift with the rising tides. Every once in awhile a Monsoon hits. You handle
it. You think you got this but then a Tsunami emerges and the end is nowhere to
be seen.
That’s what being a mom
really feels like when you are an expat! Because there are no benchmarks, no
guidelines and every move comes along with a new set of unfamiliar
challenges. You fall back on relevant
memories from your own childhood. Nothing in there helps: we had an internet
free, gadget free and a relatively simple childhood back then. You look around
and you hesitate. Your friends, if you are lucky to have made some as an expat
are wonderful people. But they come from over the world, each with their own
set of cultural expectations, barriers and benchmarks. You’ve known them for
what: 1 year, 2?? 4 at the most?? You love them dearly but are they really
equipped to help you navigate this damned stage of your life? Do the want to?
Some years it’s easy flow,
others it’s just a hormonal avalanche and the household seems to be anchored in
the eye a Perfect Storm but in an agonizingly slow motion mode.
You go with it. You yield. You
sink fast and you despair. You reach rock bottom and then you realize, it’s not
over! You can’t just accept defeat. There is a small number of humans that
depends on you standing tall and more importantly… standing PROUD!
Now you need to climb all the
way back up again.. All the way to an elusive snow-peaked summit. You know
is more of a mental challenge than a physical one. You need to tell yourself
that you can make; despite your lack of fitness and inability to believe in
yourself. But if you make it, only then you’ll know!!!!
It’s going to be OK!, you are
going to be OK! Your kids are going to be fine! Your friends will manage to
look through the turmoil and hold on to you till you emerge again. Till you
make the climb… all the way to the peak!
It’s Day -6 and the countdown
to the Climb has just begun….
Disclaimer:
This post won’t resonate with
any of the following echelons of expatriation:
- - The genius wife who managed to carve a successful career alongside her roaming partner
- - The satisfied home maker who fulfills her own dreams off the career path
- - The disgruntled expat follower who knows how to be a social butterfly
- - The financially independent partner who can afford to create a parallel fantasy life alongside her reality as a dependent follower
- - Parents of the perfect children who never ever engage in any inappropriate behavior or leave you dealing with a trail of anger, shame, worry and sometimes even sheer fear
No comments:
Post a Comment