At the risk of boring you all with my expat moaning I’m writing another post today about it, this time inspired by The Prompt.
I’ve just come back from spending 10 days in my home country, England, and it was wonderful. The time I spent there I felt at ease, at home, settled. I felt like I fitted in. As we began the journey back to France I began to feel anger rising, anger that I had to leave this place that I felt so safe and comfortable to go back to somewhere that I don’t fit in at all.
As we boarded the ferry and the distance between my home and I got bigger I felt worse and worse. Sad, angry, frustrated. I felt like my soul was being torn away from it’s true home. I didn’t cry on the outside, but inside I was falling apart.
The distance was something I needed when I first moved over; space away from all the bad memories to recuperate. But now I want to start my life again. I’m ready to begin my new life, and I don’t feel I can do that in France.
Of course, time creates distance too, and the longer I spend away from the UK the more foreign I become; things change, nothing stays the same. So even if I do manage to return to the UK permanently it may be so different by then that I feel the same there as I do here; an outsider.
I’m scared. Scared that I’ll never fit in in France and that if I ever do manage to move back to the UK I’ll have been away too long to fit back in. I fear feeling homeless, not being able to settle anywhere.
So that’s where I’m at at the moment…Sorry for the fairly nonsensical post!