When one door closes, you look around for a window but I don't want to climb out of a window? Why would I climb out of a window?
Lately I've been approached with the question,
"Hey, uh... where are you?"
You see, while I was in Amsterdam this summer, Margaux offered the idea of moving back to the delightfully dirty canal city of Amsterdam in the next coming years of our life. And yeah, that would be excellent. But after biking through Vondelpark in the pouring rain I reached the conclusion-
What's stopping me from doing that right now?
Upon retuning to the US the plan was to move to Chicago and get a job. That's really all I was asking of myself for that first year. Get a place, get a job, get adjusted to the next chapter of life.
So... why couldn't I take a year to do basically the same thing, but in a different country? I'm sorry- a different continent?
I began searching for Au Pair jobs immediately. At first I was on a roll, hellbent and high on the intoxicating promise of a new adventure, but once I submitted my application to every single applicant in the city center (which I think was like, 9 families in total? It's a small pool to fish) progress slowed down to what felt like a potential dead end. Albeit determined to manifest what I believed was my highest good... I was losing faith and feeling fearful. I sent a lil SOS to the Universe- asking for a simple sign to encourage my search. I came home that night to two messages from potential families. One of them showed extensive interest and ample promise; we interviewed each other, set up references to exchange, and finally a contract arrived in my mailbox. I was, almost officially, going to be their Au Pair beginning January of 2018.
And I. Was. Pumped.
Upon returning to the US, I was bubbling with joy to be soon returning to the EU. I couldn't believe how fortunate I was to have such an opportunity! I began looking into comedy houses and acting classes in Amsterdam, trips to Dublin and Scotland, Spain, Sardinia, began taking up space in the place where soft disappointment would occasionally reside. You know, the place where moving into my first Chicago apartment with my three dear friends lived. "What's a year?" I explained to my friends, who were both parts elated and saddened to hear I wouldn't be moving to the city.
Sacrifice.
Moving to Amsterdam meant moving back home. But what's four months? Perfect amount of time to get a job, save up some money, get back into yoga, work on myself, reconnect with old friends, spend time with my childhood dog who's getting... you know... old, etc. I knew that it would be hard, but it would be worth it.
On August 8th I said see you later to Chicago, hopped on a plane, and arrived back in Atlanta. Ready to begin what was only the beginning on my next chapter.
Two weeks in and I was over it. Being home is really difficult for me (I'll save that for a different post) but I wasn't regretting or questioning my decision. I was just missing my friends and the liberation of being in a city. This would pass.
But then I started to get... the feeling. The something-isn't-quite-right feeling. At the time I chalked it up to Mercury Retrograde and my typical resting anxiety. This would pass.
But then I felt the need to reach out to my host family. Check in, you know?
The next day I got a response that affirmed the hollow feeling in my gut.
The current au pair living with my future host family was granted an extension on her residency permit and decided that she wanted to stay with the family for, what I assume, is an additional year.
(Insert upside smiling emoji x8)
Now, why no one thought to tell the future Au Pair about the potential of this possibility is beyond me. Because during the time when I still had a job I let go of other families who reached out to me. Now... I'm here... doing this.
This.
If you knew me intimately last year... you know that I was eager to have a plan.
And Chicago was a plan I was so thrilled about.
Amsterdam, Au Pairing... I mean... just beyond words. I couldn't believe that I was so fortunate!
But I'm actively choosing (some days between gritted teeth) to believe that things happen for a reason.
This is okay.
I will be okay.
There is a reason.
Something is going to work out. I'm looking on Chicago housing every day. I'm looking at AuPairWorld every day. At this point, though, I think I need to hone in on which option I really, really want. And, of course, I want them both. And there's been a few synchronistic pop ups lately that seem to point towards Chicago--- but I'm not yet ready to give up on Amsterdam. Since returning home it's felt pretty clear to me that I'm currently in a lesson about....
Patience.
Deep breaths.
Deep breaths.
So, for those of you who are asking-
I'm here. For right now, I'm right here.
Lately I've been approached with the question,
"Hey, uh... where are you?"
You see, while I was in Amsterdam this summer, Margaux offered the idea of moving back to the delightfully dirty canal city of Amsterdam in the next coming years of our life. And yeah, that would be excellent. But after biking through Vondelpark in the pouring rain I reached the conclusion-
What's stopping me from doing that right now?
Upon retuning to the US the plan was to move to Chicago and get a job. That's really all I was asking of myself for that first year. Get a place, get a job, get adjusted to the next chapter of life.
So... why couldn't I take a year to do basically the same thing, but in a different country? I'm sorry- a different continent?
I began searching for Au Pair jobs immediately. At first I was on a roll, hellbent and high on the intoxicating promise of a new adventure, but once I submitted my application to every single applicant in the city center (which I think was like, 9 families in total? It's a small pool to fish) progress slowed down to what felt like a potential dead end. Albeit determined to manifest what I believed was my highest good... I was losing faith and feeling fearful. I sent a lil SOS to the Universe- asking for a simple sign to encourage my search. I came home that night to two messages from potential families. One of them showed extensive interest and ample promise; we interviewed each other, set up references to exchange, and finally a contract arrived in my mailbox. I was, almost officially, going to be their Au Pair beginning January of 2018.
And I. Was. Pumped.
Upon returning to the US, I was bubbling with joy to be soon returning to the EU. I couldn't believe how fortunate I was to have such an opportunity! I began looking into comedy houses and acting classes in Amsterdam, trips to Dublin and Scotland, Spain, Sardinia, began taking up space in the place where soft disappointment would occasionally reside. You know, the place where moving into my first Chicago apartment with my three dear friends lived. "What's a year?" I explained to my friends, who were both parts elated and saddened to hear I wouldn't be moving to the city.
Sacrifice.
Moving to Amsterdam meant moving back home. But what's four months? Perfect amount of time to get a job, save up some money, get back into yoga, work on myself, reconnect with old friends, spend time with my childhood dog who's getting... you know... old, etc. I knew that it would be hard, but it would be worth it.
On August 8th I said see you later to Chicago, hopped on a plane, and arrived back in Atlanta. Ready to begin what was only the beginning on my next chapter.
Two weeks in and I was over it. Being home is really difficult for me (I'll save that for a different post) but I wasn't regretting or questioning my decision. I was just missing my friends and the liberation of being in a city. This would pass.
But then I started to get... the feeling. The something-isn't-quite-right feeling. At the time I chalked it up to Mercury Retrograde and my typical resting anxiety. This would pass.
But then I felt the need to reach out to my host family. Check in, you know?
The next day I got a response that affirmed the hollow feeling in my gut.
The current au pair living with my future host family was granted an extension on her residency permit and decided that she wanted to stay with the family for, what I assume, is an additional year.
(Insert upside smiling emoji x8)
Now, why no one thought to tell the future Au Pair about the potential of this possibility is beyond me. Because during the time when I still had a job I let go of other families who reached out to me. Now... I'm here... doing this.
This.
If you knew me intimately last year... you know that I was eager to have a plan.
And Chicago was a plan I was so thrilled about.
Amsterdam, Au Pairing... I mean... just beyond words. I couldn't believe that I was so fortunate!
But I'm actively choosing (some days between gritted teeth) to believe that things happen for a reason.
This is okay.
I will be okay.
There is a reason.
Something is going to work out. I'm looking on Chicago housing every day. I'm looking at AuPairWorld every day. At this point, though, I think I need to hone in on which option I really, really want. And, of course, I want them both. And there's been a few synchronistic pop ups lately that seem to point towards Chicago--- but I'm not yet ready to give up on Amsterdam. Since returning home it's felt pretty clear to me that I'm currently in a lesson about....
Patience.
Deep breaths.
Deep breaths.
So, for those of you who are asking-
I'm here. For right now, I'm right here.
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