Expat stories

Where did the time go?

September 10, 2021 filed under: about me, Expat stories, Germany, my so-called life, USA

You guys, I am having a bit of a moment here. Yesterday was my California-versary. I arrived here for the first time on September 9, 2001. That was 20 years ago.

TWENTY!

It really doesn’t feel that long. I have almost lived here for as long as I lived in Germany. That seems so crazy to me. Time perception is such a weird thing.

Here’s a reminder for those who haven’t been around my corner of the Internet for that long and don’t know my background story; I came to the US as an exchange student, and what was supposed to be a 6-months visit ended up being the biggest life-changing decision of my life.

Yes, you’re also correct to notice that I arrived two days before 9/11, and I am so glad I did because I don’t think my exchange semester would have happened if my flight had been booked to arrive after 9/11 (the academic quarter didn’t start until the beginning of October and some other students from my university never made it over here).

While studying abroad had been my dream for a long time, I distinctly remember wondering upon my arrival what the heck I had been thinking to come here all by myself. But, as we all know, pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone is always scary at first (and boy, was I pushing myself out of my comfort zone), but so very necessary for growth.

Sometimes I think it would have been “easier” to just stay in one place and not “rock the boat” with a move abroad (but who wants “easy”, amirite?). I think it was also a little less common back then than it is now for people to study or work abroad, and the fact that I followed my heart (and a guy attached to it, ha!) wasn’t something that people readily accepted.

I was a very shy and timid kid and nobody – least of all me – would have thought that I would ever up and move to another country. Not even temporarily, much less indefinitely. I’ve written about my story about how I ended up in the US before (you can read about it here) and I still have days where it’s utterly mind-boggling to me that I made that leap and that I am living my life abroad.

Moving away and putting an ocean between you and the people you care about is hard, so hard. You will quickly learn who stays in touch or actually follows through to come and visit and who fades away. Some people deal with this better than others, is what I am saying (and be ready to be surprised). But in retrospect, I feel like this move was less of a choice and more of an inevitability. It was an important opportunity for me to spread my wings. I gained (much needed) self-confidence and it taught me that I am much more resilient and independent than I’d have ever given myself credit for. I know now that I can do hard things.

In the beginning, when things are new and unfamiliar, you compare a lot. This is different in Germany and that is better in Germany. People keep asking you how things are different, or what’s better (or worse) where you live now. Over time, you stop doing the comparison game. Every place has good and bad things, you embrace the new culture and customs, and you might even take a more critical look at your home country. It’s all part of the process. Occasionally, you might feel smug about the fact that you are so lucky that you get to pick the best things from both worlds (three Christmas holidays, anyone?). But it’s still true that you can take the girl out of Germany, but you can’t take the German out of this girl.

After all this time here, it’s like I am still stuck somewhere in the middle. It becomes hard to answer the question of where your home is. For a while, that was very odd and confusing. It felt “wrong” to feel at home in two places. While I still call Germany home when I am here, I also call California home when I am in Germany. I know many immigrants and expats understand this feeling. The truth is, we’re always going to have our hearts split between two worlds now. And I think overall, that’s not a bad thing. Even when it’s hard sometimes, it’s also incredibly beautiful.

Seems like I chose the name for this blog wisely when I started writing here in 2004 because the phrase turned out to be fitting for someone with a heart split between two places.

The intricacy of friendship

August 15, 2019 filed under: Expat stories, friends, this and that

Photo by Julie Johnson on Unsplash

My blog friend Charlotte wrote an interesting blog post about cutting ties with friends the other day and it stirred something up in me that I had thought and wanted to write about before, but which I never put on (digital) paper.

To get a better base line, go read her post and then come back here. I’ll wait.

Good. So, Charlotte (in a nutshell) wrote about a friend who was basically acting passive-aggressive towards her and then demanded that they could be friends on her terms or not at all, and that’s when Charlotte decided that it might be time to cut ties, because that relationship was way too draining and emotionally stressful to invest in any further.

If you’re basically asked to do as you’re told, if someone puts demands on your time and emotional availability above all else, and claims that otherwise you’re not a good friend; that’s not friendship.

embrace friendships for what they are.

What her blog post made me think about though was the fact that friendships (can) come in many different shapes and forms and that they can only thrive if we’re willing to embrace them for what they are.

There are different levels of friendship and, in my book, they’re are all worthwhile. In fact, I think they are integral to our wellbeing.

You know how they say that you partner can meet many, but not ALL your needs? I think that is true in friendships too.

Let's talk about the intricacy of friendship Click To Tweet

I think problems arise only if one person sees the relationship differently or would like the relationship to be more than the other person. It’s hard to accept when you realize that you’re not completely on the same page on how you want your friendship to operate.

The question is: can you accept the friendship for what it is or are you willing to destroy it by demanding more? Because pressuring someone, in my experience, has never done any good, when you’re actually hoping to be closer to someone. It happens naturally or it doesn’t.

I have been on the receiving end of friendships being cut short because I think I was hoping for more than the other person was willing – or able – to give. That happens, even on the most basic, beginner levels of friendship. And that’s ok. You move on. Hopefully, there are other people to step into that void that want the same from their relationship with you as you want from them. Sometimes, it can be a delicate balance, but it can also be an opportunity to accept a relationship for what it is and still find value in it.

In Charlotte’s case, texting and lunch was not enough for the other person. I have plenty of friends that I have lunch with and occasionally text with and I am perfectly happy with the relationship as is (and I’d like to believe that they’re too). And to be honest, isn’t that what (many) friendships are in adulthood? Keeping taps on each other’s lives via text/social media and the occasional lunch or dinner? We are all stretched thin with our time and the demands that are put on us that it’s hard to keep up with everything. Who has time – and brain space – to hang out all the time?

With my moving halfway around the world, most of my friends are now scattered around the globe and our connections, while still unbreakable, are impacted by busy schedules, grown-up responsibilities, different time zones, and a gazillion miles. Sometimes, weeks pass without real conversation and my only glimpse into their lives is a post on Instagram or an ~~email~~ WhatsApp message.

Consider yourself lucky if you have people close by that you can actually physically get together with more than once a year!

be open and accepting of life’s circumstances.

And for the friends that are close by, remember that even if you’re not super-close with someone, every friendship has value and something to offer. As mentioned above, it’s unrealistic to think that a friendship – even a close one – will meet all of your needs, but it will meet some needs and you should always, always be thankful for the connection, no matter how big or small. It should never be taken for granted. What I find most important is to be open and accepting of life’s circumstances. Don’t let the door on friendship close because of one thing that rubbed you the wrong way.

I have a lot of friends that I connect with on one level, but not on another and that is totally ok. Of course, I also have a couple of rare friends that I connect with on (almost) every level. Those are the really special friendships in your life. But, I’d dare say that is not the norm. Just because we only connect on certain levels, doesn’t mean that we can’t be friends. In fact, it possibly means that we very likely will be friends.

Obviously I cherish my close friendships most deeply (as most people do!), but I also really value the looser kind of friendships I have kept with people over the years. Even if I only talk (or email) with someone twice a year, it means something to me.

friendships ebb and flow.

If I have learned one valuable lesson over time, it’s that friendships ebb and flow. It’s normal and it’s something that you have to accept as part of life, not as something that reflects negatively on your friendship. There will be times when you’re in each other’s lives a lot and times when you aren’t.

I have friends that I’ve only known for a couple of years and some that I’ve known for 20+ years, some go back to Kindergarten and Elementary School. It’s impossible to keep up with everybody all of the time and with some, there were years where we didn’t really communicate much at all, but what all these friendships have in common is that neither side ever assumed that the friendship was over just because we didn’t talk for a while, and that both sides were willing to pick up where we left off when the tides of life changed in our favor again.

Yes, sometimes friendship demands patience. Yes, sometimes it demands accepting that we’re not always getting what we want (I wish I would communicate more often with some of my friends than is currently the case), but if we can accept the moment that we’re in, not make assumptions on the status of our friendships based on how often we talk or see each other, but trust in the bond that we have and be open for anything the other person is willing and able to give at any given moment, then our hearts should be full and happy.

My trip home

June 17, 2019 filed under: Expat stories, family, food, Germany, reminiscence, travel

I can’t believe it’s been ~~four~~ almost five weeks since I returned from my long-anticipated visit back home with my family. Time just won’t slow down and it’s been hard to get back into my blogging game (as you can tell).

I had an absolutely wonderful time and soaked up every minute. I can also say that I was able to almost check everything of my Germany Bucket List.

Like,

… spending time with my niece and nephew (and the rest of the family)

You know what was really, really nice about this trip? That I really enjoyed being at home at my parents’ house and that I was part of everyone’s daily routine. Since my sister and BIL were working and the kids were in school, we didn’t do a whole lot of “adventuring” or “vacation stuff”, but it was nice to pretend that I was always part of their daily routines for a while.

I took my niece to her riding lesson and we had a movie night at my sister’s house and various afternoons and dinners where we just hung out together.

… spending time with my best friend

I didn’t get to spend as much time with my friend as I had hoped to. Shortly after I arrived, she left for an almost two-week stay at a pain clinic (for chronic headaches) where a spot had just opened up. Of course, she had to take it. I wish I could have spent more time with her and build her up a bit more, but I am glad we got to see each other at all. Every hour is precious.

… attending one of my best friends’ wedding

I was stoked that I was able to attend one of my best friend’s wedding during my visit. We met many moons ago on the Internet, but have become really close over the years and to be able to be there for her (and her new husband) on their wedding day was such a treat (for me and for her!). (Separate recap to come.)

… my nephew’s first communion.

Last time I visited for my niece’s first communion, so of course I had to make sure that I am there for my nephew’s as well. So glad I could make this happen. (Separate recap to come.)

… eating all the food

My Mom went above and beyond to fulfill all my food cravings. Every day, I made a new request for lunch or dinner and she made it all.

Mettbrötchen (rolls with freshly minced meat, salt, pepper and onions – OMG!) – pork roast with crackling with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes – Schnibbelskuchen (baked potato wedges with eggs on whole grain bread with sugar beet syrup)

potato pancakes – green bean soup with sausages – herring in cream sauce with potatoes and bacon bits

meatballs with kohlrabi and potatoes – waffles with strawberries and ice cream – bratwurst with red cabbage and potatoes

Not pictured: goulash and dumplings, pizza, and ALL THE FRESH BREAD + ROLLS all day, every day.

… walking with my Mom

My Mom has been getting into a regular morning walk routine since I last visited and I did not only join her for one, but many walks (I think five!). It was so great to get out and walk with her, which also gave us the opportunity to talk and just spend time together. I ended up only running once, but the walks were far more important to me this time.

… going for a run with my cousin (and maybe my sister?)

Unfortunately that didn’t happen and I blame two things: a) bad weather (it rained a lot while I was there!) and b) timing (my cousin and my sister had to work, so there wasn’t as much opportunity), but I still got out for a run around my hometown!

… working out with my Dad

Unfortunately, that also didn’t happen, because my Dad had issues with his shoulder and couldn’t go to the gym with me (and subsequently had surgery scheduled two weeks after I left).

… having some quality time with my sister

I got to spend two nights at my sister’s house and I wish I could do that more often. It’s just so nice to hang out, sleep in the same bed and then have breakfast together the next morning (including fancy out-of-the-shower-towel-turbans, ha!) – as if we do that every Saturday. I mean, at least it felt like that… even if in reality, it’s such a rare event.

… seeing an old friend from high school

Timing was difficult because she had to work and my weekends were already filled up with family stuff, but I did get to see my high school friend for a few hours one evening during the week and I am so glad we both were able to make the time to reconnect.

… spending a day with a dear friend in Köln

I did get to meet up with one of my longest, dearest friends in Cologne again and we got to spend some time in our favorite city. (Separate recap to come.)

… seeing a few other dear (family) friends (BONUS!)

I was able to squeeze in a couple more friends (I got to have coffee with an old pen friend that I hadn’t seen in 20 years and I also was able to reconnect with a dear friend, who lives in Hamburg now) and we saw two family friends for a few hours and I am so glad we were able to make it happen.

… shopping for items to bring back to my US home.

Of course, I did shop for some stuff to bring back home (I believe, every expat does!) and even though my must-get list has gotten shorter, there is definitely a few things I always bring back. Wanna know what these things are? I might write a separate post about it, if you’re interested. (Or you can hop on Instagram and Facebook to see the “Germany hauls” some people post, although I am not bringing half of that stuff that other people are bringing back. Just sayin’.)

My time back home was packed full of awesome people, awesome food and I returned to the US with a really full heart.

On the suckiness of goodbyes

July 23, 2015 filed under: Expat stories, real life

How lucky I am to have something
that makes saying goodbye so hard.

– A. A. Milne

On Monday morning, I dropped off my family – my parents, my sister, BIL and the munchkins – at the airport after three full weeks of blissful family summer vacation. If you follow me on Instagram, you’ve seen some pictures (and in every single one I am probably grinning like a Cheshire Cat).

What can I say? My family is awesome and I don’t ever get tired of them (not even after three weeks of hanging out 24/7). To tell you that my heart ached seeing them go is a huge understatement. It was more like it was being ripped out of my chest.

Those are the days when I want to get on the plane with them and never look back.

Of course, I didn’t do that.

Of course, I also consider myself very lucky to have family that I miss dearly when I can’t be around them. Heartache is much better than not having a loving relationship with your parents/siblings at all. I get it. I totally do!

I just tend to ‘forget’ that when tears blur my vision and all I wanna do is pull the blanket over my head and shut out the world. Saying goodbye is not getting easier, that’s for sure. In fact, it seems to have gotten harder over time.

Four weeks ago, my parents arrived with my nephew. My sister, BIL and niece came a couple of days later. I have no freaking idea how a whole month is already over again. I find it extremely unfair how slowly time seems to crawl when you’re waiting for something and how fast it speeds by when you’re having fun.

But it is what it is.

I wish there was a way you could hold on to those special moments a little longer. I appreciate them (and the memories we made) every second of every day (and I have 5000+ photos to prove it! Don’t worry, I’ll only pick out a fraction for your viewing pleasure!), but it always seems like precious times keep slipping through my fingers at a much faster rate.

I wasn’t the one traveling through time zones this time, but I feel emotionally jetlagged. I think being ‘left behind’ is almost worse than getting on a plane yourself. You have to go home to a now “empty” apartment. One minute they are there, then they are not.

I felt so lost.

My sister and I are known to bawl our eyes out at goodbyes as is, but I also kept randomly crying throughout the rest of the day. What is this uncontrollable madness?

My sister’s first message, after she got home was “I don’t know how you do this”.
Yeah, me neither. I myself often wonder how I do this.

But then I think about how much I love California and my life here and that we would have never had this fantastic vacation traveling through the Southwest together, if it hadn’t been for me living here.

I’ve realized more than once that there always is a price to pay as a consequence of your life choices and there is no real way to avoid it either. There will always be a “what if…”, no matter what you decide to do.

I often feel like I contemplate the what-ifs a little more than most people, but maybe that is not true. Maybe we just tend to not talk about it with other people that much. It’s futile anyway. But I keep thinking that everybody – in one way or another – must have similar feelings. And there is always the nagging feeling in the back of my mind how things could be different …

If you live far away from your family, how do you deal with this?

Guest post | Dream big

June 29, 2015 filed under: Expat stories, guest blog post

Today, my friend Kat is filling in for me while I am embarking on a road-trip down the coast with my family.

Kat has been a dear friend and long-time favorite blogger of mine for years now. She’s a fellow German with a huge amount of wanderlust and she just recently made her dream come true and up and moved to Sweden on a one-way ticket. Today she wants you to know that the only right way to live life is by dreaming big.

If you want to read more about Kat’s adventures in Sweden, check out her blog hejstockholm.com and you can follow her on Twitter @oceansaway.

I packed my life into a suitcase and moved from Germany to Stockholm, Sweden in February 2015. By that point, I had considered moving to Sweden for a good four years but always found reasons not to. They were valid reasons such as that I didn’t speak Swedish, didn’t have a job waiting for me in Sweden and didn’t have any money saved up. The risk I would be taking seemed overwhelming: what if I didn’t find a job right away? What would I do then? I’d have no one and nothing to fall back on.

The reason I wanted to move in the first place is that I fell head over heels in love with Sweden during a study abroad that I spent in the south of the country. Many of the things people tend to list as reasons not to move here are actually on my pro list: long winters, lots of snow, reserved and introverted people. But there is also this: endless amounts of light and joy during the summer months; waters and forests as far as the I can see (true wilderness!) and few big cities; holidays like Midsummer and Lucia that I thought only existed in the children’s books my mom read to my brother and I when we were growing up; culture and politics rooted in equality, social conscience und common sense. It’s hard to sum up exactly why I love Sweden so much more than Germany or anywhere else I’ve been. Can’t explain love, right?

Speaking of love. The first question anyone asks me in my new chosen home is whether my boyfriend is Swedish. (I wish! Heh.) It’s an immediate assumption everyone makes that I wasn’t really prepared for. According to the majority of people, it seems like the only reason I could’ve possibly decided to come here is that I met a Swede and followed him to his home country. It can be an awkward situation to have to explain that I came here by myself because I wanted this for myself. The most common reaction is empathy and pity. „So… you’re all alone?“, some people will say. „Doesn’t that get lonely? And boring? And scary?“

It is none of those things, and in today’s guest post here on San’s lovely blog I‘d like to tell you why.

These past three months have without a doubt been the best three months of my life. I’ve never been this happy. I’ve never felt this confident about a decision and so glad, in retrospect, to have taken the risk. It feels wonderful to have made this happen for myself, and I now feel like I can take on any other challenge by myself as well.

I’m unsure if it is the cause or the result of a life steeped in wanderlust and wanting to escape, but I love being by myself. I’m an introvert, I suffer from social anxiety, I’m fearful of new things. I’m a very unlikely candidate for a move to a foreign country, is what I’m saying. But here’s what I learned: The dream has to be bigger than the fear – and it’ll work out. I’m afraid all the time, of dozens of things, every single day. But if the dream is bigger than the fear, I push through. Moving to Sweden meant facing one fear after the other, but the dream was bigger than the fear.

And you know what – since I’m getting all life-lesson-y about this, anyway – here’s another thing: Don’t tell your dreams to small-minded people. That’s a Steve Harvey quote, which is so random, I know, but it’s a damn good quote. I told people in my immediate environment about plans to move to Stockholm and they doubted that I, the introverted loner, could ever manage to attempt this. Surround yourself with like-minded people instead. Having a dream is not stupid or juvenile or idealistic – anyone who has made their dream come true will tell you that. I am telling you that.

In conclusion: Dream big. Dream up something overwhelming and impossible to do all by yourself, and dream beyond, to a place past fear and worry. Then go for it. Just do it. I promise you it’s worth it.

Where did the time go?