Dear people who love people who live in faraway places,
Maybe you should sit down for this.
There are some things you should know. Simple things really, but your faraway people haven’t quite been able to sneak it into the conversation without making it completely awkward just yet.
Here are a few things that they might say if they could
I don’t live in a hut.
You’re not alone if you thought I did. It’s Gilligan’s fault really. And Dr. Livingstone. And National Geographic. And every Walt Disney production ever. It’s probably brain science too and the fact that we typically have one tiny spot in our prefrontal cortex where we cram EVERYTHING FOREIGN. So it would make sense that you might connect the dots and presume that I live in a hut or shimmy coconut trees or charm snakes.
It might also help you to know that I don’t eat leeches or tree frogs, I’ve never gotten stuck in quicksand and I am at ZERO RISK of being caned — probably.
Which brings me to my next hard to believe reality . . .
I like it here.
Not just in a “nice to visit” kind of way either. This is more than a vacation and I am more than a tourist. In fact (are you still sitting down?) sometimes I call this place . . .
HOME
I’ve got people here. Good people. Lifers. We’ve gone deep and gotten close and someday when I live far away from them I’ll put a lot of effort and spend a ton of money just to get a few more golden moments with them . . . just like I do with you.
click here to read Hello Again, The Unanticipated Bright Side of Perpetual Goodbyes
This new place and these new people haven’t REPLACED anything . . . or anyone. It’s a different thing altogether but I like it, and I’m learning what it’s like to be home and miss home at the same time.
And maybe you should know.
I’ve changed.
You probably don’t notice at holiday dinners and on Skype calls because I still look the same . . . but I’m different in my core. That’s what happens when you step away from your own culture and see it through the lenses of another.
My politics are different because those BIG screaming issues that seemed so uber-critical don’t even register over here. They still matter . . . but so do other things.
And sometimes . . . just sometimes when you say stuff and assume that I feel the same way . . .
I don’t.
My faith is different too because I found out that God and I don’t share the same passport.
My perspectives are different.
My opinions.
My emotions.
And it’s weird sometimes to go back to the places where I used to fit perfectly and not fit perfectly.
And if I’m totally honest . . .
I judge you.
Sometimes I get all snooty and pretentious and feel like I’ve been enlightened to a whole new level of global understanding that you don’t have access to. Sometimes I feel a little bit judgy because you don’t see the big picture — because you’re caught up in your own little world.
That’s not true and it’s not fair — but it does happen.
And get this.
Sometimes I judge you . . . because you’re too judgy.
Figure that out.
But I probably judge you the most because . . .
Your jokes are just not as funny as they sounded in your head.
I know you’re just trying to connect but the horrible accents and the really bad one-liners that reduce my host culture to a painfully offensive stereotype are just . . . well . . . painful. Those stereotypes are now friends of mine — so you’re talking about my people.
I feel the same way when they make bad jokes about you.
There’s so much more I want to say but I probably never will.
Things like . . .
Facebook is only 10% true.
Those selfies are legit. We went to those places and it was SO cool . . . but we also do dishes. And we get bored. And we get cranky. And we binge Netflix. And sometimes, right after we post our global landmark, smiley pics we spend three hours stuck staring at our phones looking at other people’s 10% truth posts . . . and idiotic political memes . . . and kittens.
But we don’t say that on our socials. We just smile for the selfies.
That’s real . . . but there’s a whole other 90%.
And
I’m not a superhero for doing this
If you only knew how incompetent I feel sometimes.
And
I know it’s expensive but I want you to come visit
I LOVE it when I get to see you but I wish you could see me HERE. I have so much to show you. I want you to meet my people. I want you to eat this food.
I want you to hear me speak this language and be like, “PHUAWW YOU’RE AMAZING.” And I’ll be like, “Yeah, I been practicing” but I’ll know in my head that I just said it completely wrong and so will the guy I said it to but you won’t because you’re even MORE INCOMPETENT than me.
I want you to smell this place and hear this place and touch this place because it would connect us on a whole different level.
And
This is a big one.
I’m NOT breaking my kids.
I’m really not. There is SO much goodness and richness and beauty built into the core of who they are becoming through this experience. It goes so much deeper than seeing cool places and learning new languages.
They’re being shaped with perspectives that you and I never dreamed of.
They’re being equipped with understanding about people that will uniquely qualify them for good, good things.
Click here to read 24 Reasons I Love the Fact That My Kids are TCK’s
They’re having fun.
They’ve got friends.
They’ve got a future.
And it’s solid.
And it’s global.
And it’s good.
And one last thing . . .
Not all of these are true
Most of them are. For me and for other expats. But something here doesn’t apply to me. This was written by some guy who was trying to generalize the entire expat experience for all expats everywhere.
You can’t do that.
Some of this really hits home for me . . . and I want you to know it. But some of it doesn’t.
Maybe I DON’T really like it here. Maybe your jokes ARE funny. Maybe I DO live in a hut.
The only way to find out . . . is to talk.
And I would love that.
Dear Expats.
What connects? What doesn’t? What would you add?
Here’s your chance to say it. Comment below.
If I were to come back to America, doesn’t automatically mean I will finally find a husband.
Good one.
Not ‘breaking‘ our kids is a good one! Even when they make bad choices that might send you home. Each and every experience is one they learn and grow from to become a strong, independent, thinkers and strong problem solving skills.
Yes!!! Our kids don’t have to be all smiles and doing fabulous to actually love their host country!!! Maybe it is other expats that have made it hard on them…….#keepitreal
Great post. I’d add, “Coming back to the US would not fix all of our struggles. Some of them would get worse.”
I’m not a bad mom/daughter/grandma because I left my family in the US to come serve God and His kids here.
Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
Matthew 28:19-20 NIV
~Jesus~
When I’m in America, I’m not automatically on vacation. We take a few days off to see our family, but home assignment is sometimes a lot harder than our work here, it is hard on the kids, it’s hard on me – all that transition. I feel so misunderstood when you think we are just out having fun. When you ask me how my vacation is going.
When I’m in America, I actually feel homesick! Especially since we’re basically guests for months on end. It’s not a fun, relaxing visit “home.”
I wish you’d ask what I’d like in a care package before you waste a lot of money on things I can get here or will never use. Most of the things that would make my MONTH are items that are cheapest and easiest for you to buy! Vanilla extract, chocolate chips, knox gelatin, kids’ gummy vitamins, a handwritten note…
Just because we choose to stay here doesn’t mean it’s because we love every aspect of life here. It’s more nuanced than that. Imagine more like a military deployment than a long-term vacation.
“Oh, you live in China? I once knew a guy from Korea…” that’s a surefire conversation-killer. If you don’t know what to say because my life is so different from yours then ask a question, please. Don’t just offer SOMETHING, even if it’s totally unrelated!
Great post! I would add two points:
1) Not only did I not break my kids, I did not DEPRIVE my kids by taking them away from American culture and extended family. Yes, they missed some important things related to the extended family, but they gained so much more in other areas of life.
2) When we transition back to our passport country, I will be grieving. A lot. It is coming this year for us and so many people are already asking about how excited we must be. We are not. We are delighted to be near our kids and grandkids, but we are leaving so many dear friends and community. It is already painful. So please give us space to grieve our losses.
And the part about how you’ve changed takes so much effort to fully articulate (!) which is even harder when you are in the midst of so much transition. (I will be praying for you Leslie!) -Charlene
Coming home is much more difficult than leaving.
AMEN!
All but one of these are true for me. I am single. I would love for you to do a post on singleness.
Yes! And just because I might move back to the USA doesn’t mean I’ll be there forever or that I’m moving back to the same town. Just because I’m sometimes over this place doesn’t mean it hasn’t also been amazing.
But especially the political, religious, and kid one.
43 year expat from a 3 generation expat family here. These kinds of articles make me wince but I was glad to see that there is a humbleness to this one that is refreshing. Agree to all of the above and must say, being an expat kid didn’t break me but it was harrowing at times. However, those negative experiences were as character-forming as the positive ones (of course) and made me (and make all expat kids) highly adaptable and resilient.
It does feel, after lots of years living overseas, that i deserve to be judgy of us parochial ‘Muricans. But, i am starting to realize that life is just life, wherever one lives it.
“welcome home” they said after coming to my passport country. They meant well, but I just left my home of x years and it hurts.
“Are you glad to be back?” no.
“you mist be glad to return here”. No. I am not returning, i am coming here and it hurts deeply.
I love my adopted country and cannot wait for the day I can call it home again.
I relate to so much of this and my kids definitely benefited from it. Yes it was Home tothem also .
I love reading your post and wish to one day fulfill my dream to travel and live abroad. But, there’s nothing like the good old USA, so the saying goes.