Where do I begin? I decided to start writing down my thoughts, reflections, and candid stories because I’m at a crossroad, and I’m hoping that writing will lead me to new revelation and help me figure out my new path.
Just to give a little background, I’m a 40 something expat housewife that feels very blessed to be in my position, but it came with its own set of challenges and a lot of change all at once. They say living abroad can be isolating, the same is said about being a new mother. Add both those things together, and you have what I was living.
I am lucky enough to have an amazing loving husband, and the most beautiful joyful child. But, before I became a wife and mother, I “did my thing”. I had a great job in a cool creative industry that people are dying to get into. I traveled around the country, interacting with famous people, staying in 5 star hotels on an expense account. I look back on that life fondly, even though, if I’m being honest, it was also filled with various degrees of sadness off and on, for a variety of reasons. I was confident, fashionable, surrounded by people who loved me, and was able to not only take care of myself, but also save money. At the time, I lived in a tiny apartment in a neighborhood that will probably never be gentrified. It allowed me to get on my feet since starting out in my industry meant low wages, and it was what I could afford. By the time I left I was making very good money, had a stacked 401k and a decent savings. Think off-rack Carrie Bradshaw, from around the way.
Side bar, the apartment was in a tiny co-op, and my neighbors were all something out of a Tyler Perry movie. There was the old lying gossiping lady who you had to be nice to because she was the unchallenged president of the board of the last decade, and was able to pull strings to get things done for you. The successfully educated woman with the husband with a long criminal past (and at the time present) that made everyone uncomfortable. Two pastors (one of which I got into a cold war with…), and a bunch of families and good hearted people just trying to feed and take care of their families. I’m pretty sure the property management company was robbing us, and when I spoke up and tried to bring attention to it, I was accused of being messy (sigh). There wasn’t enough parking for the amount of cars of the people who lived there. The running joke was, any time a single woman purchased an apartment, it was a matter of time before her boyfriend moved in, adding to the strain on parking. It was a mess, but it was home and I lived there for a decade.
After many years, and I do mean many years of being single (which provides me with a wealth of stories), I finally met my husband. He was my manifestation list come true. I met him on an app…. which back in 2016 was unimaginable to me. I signed up with the encouragement of a friend because I was bored, and tired of traveling to the neighboring state (where I worked) to date what I deemed were men on my same page, so I decided to see who was single in my sleepy area. I found a damn needle in a haystack. I credit my years of dating for giving me the knowledge to know a good thing when I found it, and to push through the self-sabotage to snag him. We dated for 2 years, got engaged, and then had a very small destination wedding.
With marriage came a lot of change. We were both so used to living alone, that our coupling was a huge adjustment. We didn’t live together for the first two months of our marriage. One, because of our job locations, and two, because frankly, neither of us was jumping at the idea of giving up our spaces. We just visited each other on the weekends, and talked until we fell asleep every night like high schoolers. We finally moved in together (which is a story in itself), and after 3 1/2 years of marriage, and a baby that we worked really hard to conceive, my husband was offered a position in an Asian country. So while I was on maternity leave, 3 months after the baby was born, we moved, and I became a housewife.
It’s been a little over a year since we arrived. I feel adjusted to my new surroundings, far far away from my loved ones, but now I’m at a crossroad. I love the privilege I have of being able to be home with my child (although, being a fulltime housewife is the hardest job I have EVER had). I have a part time nanny/housekeeper to help keep me sane, I live in a beautiful apartment overlooking one of the most amazing cities in the world, and I have a husband who happily provides for our family financially, physically and emotionally. But Instead of relishing in all of this, I’m cursed with the burden of constantly worrying about the future and trying to work it out in my head. I cannot stop agonizing about my career and if I will be able to find work with a hole in my resume. I tried to convince last job to let me stay on, but I was a pretty new employee to the company, and they were seriously committing to their return to office …… I realize that this might be the worst sob store ever…. “poor little rich girl”, but in my defense, this feels like a fun break, and we’ll have to get back to our real lives when we return home. So here I am, trying to figure out what’s next. I absolutely do not want to return to the office after working from home for three years, and now being home for the last 1 ½ with my child. I feel like I’m still recovering from an absolutely horrendous commute I did for YEARS, I shudder when I think about it. While I loved my job while I was doing it, it required a lot of schmoozing and I just don’t have it in me to do that anymore. I’m a private person so it’s not likely that I’ll try to be an influencer, and or do something openly on social media. I started an instagram before I moved thinking I would post about my life here abroad, and quickly realized I lacked the energy for all of that. I don’t want another degree, I already have a masters. We’ll be in this country for the next few years, but I don’t speak the language (it’s written and spoken in characters i’ve never seen before, and can’t even wrap my head around, although I have made an attempt to learn it), so working here is not really possible. It’s also possible that when we leave here, we may move to another country other than home. So what’s next for me? I’m hoping to get a sign that I can’t miss that points me in the right direction, and ideally leads to some sort of an independent career. In the meantime, I’ll continue to pour into my little sunbeam, and jot my thoughts and experiences here.
