No, I'm Not Feeling Settled (yet)

"So, are you feeling settled now?"  That's the number one question I get from family, friends, acquaintances, and even strangers, when they find out we have just recently moved from one side of the globe to the other.  Rather than laugh maniacally like the crazy lady I often feel I am these days, or burst into tears over how much I'm internally struggling, I usually say something like, "Not yet, but we're getting there."  And then I think to myself, I am SO FAR from feeling settled I can't even explain it, and I wonder if I will EVER feel settled here, and what does it even MEAN to feel settled anyway?  I actually Googled that last one to try to clarify it for myself.  It means "to feel comfortable or established in a new home, situation, or job."  Well then, nope.  Not comfortable, not established, not settled (yet.)    

About a month after my last uncertain blog post "LIMBO", Keith was fortunate to get a job offer in New Orleans, and our lives changed dramatically in a very short period of time.  In July, we left Brunei and life as we had known it for the past 7 years.  We said many tearful goodbyes to our friends, the amazing schools, our amah (no more domestic help for me in the "real world", womp womp), cultural diversity, incredible travel opportunities, the beautiful sunsets over the South China Sea, and so much more.  We are now, quite frankly, going through a period of grieving.  There have been losses on many levels, and sometimes all I want to do is cry (and move back.)  I remind myself that this is okay on the days when I just can't stop the tears from falling, which is more often than I'd like to admit.  It's like I'm supposed to be thrilled to be "home", but this doesn't feel like home, at least not yet.  Yes, it's my "home country", but it may as well be another planet.  Things have changed considerably in the USA since we left, from crazy advances in technology to an even crazier political situation and climate. This is a lot to take in after literally being in the jungle for 7 years!  The thing is, I've changed too in our time overseas.  My views, beliefs, knowledge, experiences, and even my tastebuds, are not necessarily the same as they were 7 years ago, but that's a whole other blog post in and of itself.  

I've tried to look at this move as another posting, an adventure, as if we are still expats in a new location, except that it's not really like that at all.  Not only are we on "local terms", i.e. not spoiled anymore, but we don't have the little expat bubble that we had in Brunei.  In that bubble with fellow expats from all over the world, we became each other's families in a way.  We supported one another through the ups and downs of life in a foreign country, and all the accompanying struggles and joys that came with being far removed from one's own culture and support system.  The only constant was change, and we had all been through it.  So, assimilating into a smallish, homogeneous town on the outskirts of New Orleans, where the majority of people seem to have been born and raised surrounded by extended family, lifelong friends, and strong ties to southeastern Louisiana, is a different kind of challenge altogether.  Here, even though the people truly are overwhelmingly kind, friendly, and welcoming, I can't help but feel like a foreigner, an outsider.  It's simply going to take more time, and more of me stepping outside of my comfort zone to figure out my role and identity here, to fight the feelings of isolation when Keith goes to work and the kids go to school each day, and to begin to feel truly established as a part of this community rather than just an anonymous face everywhere I go.  

One of my main initial focuses has been on helping my children to settle before I can start to feel settled myself, as I'm sure most moms can relate.  Overall, these kids of ours have done amazingly well making friends, getting involved, and excelling at school, but of course there have been tears and trials along the way.  With 4 kids, it's almost inevitable that even if 3 are doing great, there will be 1 who is really struggling.  Who that one is can change from day to day, but I always tend to take on their emotions myself and feel their pain right along with them. Whether it's struggling to find a true friend, frustrations with the excessive overload of homework and major differences in education, teenage drama, getting reacquainted with American customs and terminology (it's an eraser not a rubber!), or just missing everything and everyone they left behind (that's the biggest one), it's a lot for these kids to handle.  Sure, they say kids are resilient, but an international move and repatriation is no small feat, and I'm incredibly proud of mine for how well they are adjusting to so many changes at once.  The funny thing is, I remember hoping 7 years ago that we weren't screwing up our kids by moving to the other side of the world, but now I hope that we aren't screwing up them, and ourselves, by moving back.  Who'd have thought?

While recent life has been a whirlwind of activity (buying cars, getting Louisiana driver's licenses, setting up insurance and utilities, opening local bank accounts, registering kids for school, finding doctors and dentists, figuring out schedules and extracurricular activities, and other logistical nightmares that have inevitably involved lots of paperwork), one thing definitely providing us with more stability is that we finally have a house of our own again!  Even though it was only a few months' wait, it felt like longer due to our interim housing situations since moving.  First was nearly a month on my own with the kids at my parents' house in Dallas this summer, where I broke my right hand the morning after we arrived from Brunei.  This "boxer's fracture" occurred as my finger snapped backwards at the knuckle while going down a playground slide, while holding a cup of coffee and my phone, in a jet lagged frame of mind at 5:45am (I really wish I had a better story.)  It required surgery that resulted in pins sticking out of my useless hand, and months of physical therapy (my hand is still on the mend.)  Because an international move wouldn't have been challenging enough if I had the use of my dominant hand, right?  So, a huge thanks to my parents for all their help during that ordeal!  The kids and I then reunited with Keith who had stayed a bit longer in Brunei to finish out his contract and thankfully oversee the packing, and Shell put us up in a hotel in Louisiana for a few days upon first landing in our new state.  We then moved from the hotel into a cramped little apartment for several weeks too many, which made me quickly realize that my fantasies of tiny house living would actually be a nightmare in real life, so we are very glad we bought a full-size house which we moved into about 6 weeks ago.  Our house is perfect for all 6 of us, it backs up to trees and a pond, it's conveniently located near shops and the schools, and it IS starting to feel like home.  Unfortunately, all of our "stuff" hasn't arrived yet!   Surely it will feel more like home once we have our own furniture, dishes, piano, and household goods.  We're going on 4 months now of living with just the things we brought in our suitcases, the limited items we put in our air freight (pillows, some kitchen stuff, photo albums) which arrived just a month ago, and minimal rental furniture that fortunately has been provided by the relocation company until our sea freight gets here.  Even though I've been striving towards a more minimalist lifestyle in general (my ongoing quest for "The Simple Life"),  I think we'll all be happy to see some familiar items when we finally unpack our boxes!  I'm especially looking forward to getting a good night's sleep in our King-sized bed rather than tossing and turning on an uncomfortable, springy, queen-sized rental mattress. Hopefully we won't have to wait too much longer, but if we learned anything from our time in Brunei, it's patience and low expectations!

So, this is our life for now... not really in limbo anymore, but not quite settled yet either.  I know that we're not alone though, and that so many of our friends have gone through the same thing in the past, are going through it now, or will go through it in the future.  Like my dear friend Lucy recently texted me, as her family has had quite the drawn-out transition from Brunei to Egypt, "Just taking it one day at a time.  Sometimes you just want to fast forward to 6 months from now... but I guess we just have to enjoy the journey."  Thanks for the reminder, Lucy.   That's life after all, right?  Live in the moment, enjoy the journey, and if there are tears along the way, that's perfectly okay too.  Eventually we'll feel settled, thanks for asking.

LIMBO

 I just realized I've only written on this blog once in the past 3 years!  The post I wrote 3 years ago, in April 2015, was about the sad side of expat life, all the goodbyes.  Since I wrote that, we have continued to say goodbye each year to more and more friends, and several of Keith's coworkers.  Our kids have said goodbye to numerous classmates and teachers as everyone moves on to their next destination.  The emotional roller coaster is exhausting, and I wonder how resilient I actually am.  We even thought we would be leaving a couple times in the past few years, and were somewhat prepared to do so, but here we still are, almost 7 years of living in Brunei, unbelievable.

Now we are in limbo, feeling stuck in the space between "here" and "there", but not knowing where "there" is yet.  All we know is that our Brunei visas expire at the end of June.  Keith's replacement at work arrived this week.  We really are going to leave.  No more extensions.   Life in the Brunei bubble is quickly coming to an end.  We just don't know where we're going from here.  This is an anxiety-inducing state of being that our fellow expat friends are also familiar with, as the contract comes to an end and the job search ensues (and has actually been going on for the past 6 months.)   Others know that we are on "rundown", and I've considered wearing a t-shirt that says "No News Yet" just to make it easier when people wonder where we're off to next, which is a conversation I've had multiple times on a daily basis for months now.

It's a difficult place to exist, this Limbo.  For me, things are pretty much out of my control.  I can give input as to where I'd prefer to go, but ultimately it comes down to where Keith will get a job, and nothing is guaranteed.  We can rule out certain places for various reasons, the top one being that we don't want to have to send the kids to boarding school.  Natalie is in her 3rd year of weekly boarding, and we are ready to have her back home with us.  She only has 3 years left of high school, and we don't want her boarding any longer.  So, that narrows down the job search a bit.  But now what?  Do we consider staying abroad and taking another expat assignment, or do we repatriate back to the USA and try to establish roots while we still have all the kids living at home with us?  If Keith stays with Shell and we repatriate, it likely means Houston or New Orleans.  Would we rather live somewhere else in the US?  Should Keith look outside of Shell?  If he ends up not getting a job, should he just take 6-12 months off while we regroup and figure things out?  These decisions weigh heavily on our hearts and minds.  Keith and I feel overwhelmed, and we are both indecisive, which doesn't help.  We go back and forth and round and round, and nothing seems straightforward, or as simple as our lives have been here in Brunei.  No matter what we do, I feel like we'll always wonder if it was the right thing.  And what's right for one person in our family may seem like the completely wrong thing for another person.  This is where faith comes in, and trusting that everything is working together for good, even though it's hard to see that while we're stuck here in limbo.  I am well aware that huge challenges of adjustment lie ahead for all of us, regardless of which way we jump, but I'm just ready to KNOW!  The not knowing is very difficult, but it's a lesson in patience and trust for sure.

At the same time, limbo has a brighter side.  As long as we are living in oblivion, I can put off the tasks of booking flights, looking for a neighborhood, a home, finding the right schools for our kids, sending transcripts, and all the other busy work that is going to hit once we know our next move.  My hands are tied, in a way, and I am forced to live in the present.  I am trying to soak in the parts of Brunei that I know I will miss...  teaching yoga at the club, relaxing at the pool, walking on the beach, watching the monkeys, hornbills, and monitor lizards around camp, and meeting up with friends, although as an introvert I have felt myself withdrawing more and more.  I know a bunch of goodbyes are coming, and I guess I'm in self-protection mode, trying to disconnect and insulate myself against the inevitable pain those goodbyes will bring.  Harton (nearly 14) asked me a few nights ago, "So... Are we going to go out with a bang or a fizzle?"  I told him that at this point, I am fine with a fizzle.  Let's just fizzle on out of here, and start the next phase of life, wherever that may be.   Living in Limbo will end soon, and then there will be another blog post, so stay tuned...

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