I thought I had my lists all under control. Until a new one just
unfolded before me: 40 things to do before I leave Westchester..
I’m leaving.. and I’m loving my next hub.. We couldn’t have
landed a better destination.. a dream post.. Why then?
Why am I bargaining for a few months more? A few extra
moments to do all the 40 things I set out to do the minute I heard we’re
moving.
The expat mind is a very unique one. We spend a lifetime
carving a life that keeps changing on us. We take every move as an opportunity
to reinvent ourselves, to leave behind all the things we DON”t like about the
place we just left., to say goodbye to people we didn’t necessarily click with,
houses we couldn’t grow fond of, environments that stifled our desire to
thrive.
And yet!
Somehow, everything we DON”T like about that place seems to
vanish. We are equipped with memories that can only retain the good stuff. It kicks in, not when we leave, but when we
first hear the words: “Honey, I got the job!”
(side note: Honey is not in our vernacular, I just like the cliché)
He looks at me and all I see is raw frustration. But you
said you would jump at it if this job comes, he says to me. Why do you want to
separate the family and prolong your stay here? It took you over three years to
even like this place and now you want to stay???????
He’s right on all counts: I did hate it here when I first
move. Not because it’s New York, but because in and out, I’m no suburban wife.
I had to lock my professional ambitions up for 5 years. Did all the housework I
hate to do. Became the soccer housewife I swore I’d never be. One would think
I’d take any opportunity to jump ship even if it was half as good as the one we
have.
But that’s not how the expat mind works!

It’s a flip coin, I tell him, If I chose to resist, to stay
who I am, to hold on to a previous life and count the days till the new post is
over, I give you 3-4-5 years of misery and in return I’m the happiest partner
when it’s time to go. Bring on the bubble wrap! Your house will be chopped up
in tiny numbered boxes in no time. I’ll meet you at the airport.

Every hike with a friend is a new root that inches deeper in
the ground. Every breakfast with the girls is a day that just started right.
Every dance class is a bad moment chased away and replaced with a rush that
colors my outlook on the days ahead.
So when I’m asked to go, I’m actually wrapping up years of
sincere friendships, fun moments and seriously good food. That doesn’t usually
happen with a happy face!
So the count down begins….
40 more things to do before I go……