I've accepted a position to teach again next year in the province of Cáceres, Extremadura, where I work now. With that said...
No one said following your gut was easy. Constant goodbyes are awful. Distance is awful. Tough decisions are awful. But so is forgoing an opportunity that will change your life out of fear that it will, in fact, change your life. Don't let your dreams be dreams, as they say.
My decision to stay will fray relationships and jeopardize career opportunities I could've taken. I'll waste money I should be saving and postpone the adulthood I should be planning for. I'll miss moments, birthdays and holidays with the people who are most important to me. I'll see cake-smeared nieces and nephews on Facebook and wonder if I should be home watching them evolve from infants to toddlers to schoolchildren. I'll see Husker tailgates and wonder if I should be connecting with old friends, rebuilding bonds naturally strained by distance. I'll see family photos and wonder if I should be sitting at my grandparents' kitchen table while I can. I'll think about my unworn wedding dress hanging in a closet and wonder if sacrificing a marriage to my very best friend in order to stay here was foresighted or careless. I'll wonder about regrets and everything that was but isn't anymore. And when I leave let again, there will be more tears and more hard-as-hell goodbyes.
I have very little to show for the last six years of my itinerant
existence. I have a college degree with honors and a hard-earned résumé
that don't necessarily apply to my current pursuit. I own almost nothing, I have
meager savings, and I can fold, stuff and Space Bag most of my life into 100 linear inches. What I do have is an email inbox and a blog full
of travel dispatches, a Paleolithic computer full of photos and a
memory full of characters and chapters.
I really hate "what ifs" and "could've beens," but there'd be no avoiding them next year in Nebraska or Spain. Anthony Bourdain (goodness, I really can't stop quoting him; the man's a machine) said, “[When I die], I will decidedly not be regretting missed opportunities
for a good time. My regrets will be more along the lines of a sad list
of people hurt, people let down, assets wasted and advantages
squandered.” So here's to another year of adventure, discovery, growth and independence in Europe. Here's to another year of being poor, lost and foreign. With that, The Nomad Chronicles continues...
Un saludo,
Teresa
It's your life to live! I struggled with this greatly when I first came to Spain and decided to stay two years, then three. Now that my six-year Spaniversary is coming up, I finally FINALLY feel like I'm making strides professionally, like I've established myself financially, that my relationship is in the right place. I miss things at home all the time, especially the moments, but I couldn't trade all of the memories, travels, people to be able to attend a few tailgates or weddings.
ReplyDeleteAnd whatever, I speak awesome Spanish now! Let me know if you ever make it down to Seville, chiki!
People don't realize how longggggg it takes to really feel like you're making progress here. Seven months just hasn't been enough!
ReplyDeleteIf I make it back down to Seville I'll give you a heads up. Bloggers unite!