Theme Song: "Theme Song to Laverne and Shirley"
Happy One Year in England to me!
Moving to England has been by far the best thing I have ever done for myself - better even than that time I allowed myself to eat $100 worth of sushi. This experience has pushed me far past all of my comfort zone and way beyond my normal boundaries. And all I can say, even as I'm still nursing some bumps and bruises, is how grateful I am for having this opportunity.
I began this blog as a way of chronicling my adventures overseas, but I had no idea what a wonderful time capsule it would be, and what a great mirror into myself. A year into this, I am confident I could now live anywhere in the world, English-speaking or not. (In fact, I wager that it would be somewhat easier to live in Japan or Russia or Kabul because I would immediately expect things to be different. In England it's hard because the language is the same and so many other things are the same and so the differences really, really stick out and surprise.) The idea of starting over again doesn't scare me or worry me - in fact, it thrills me a bit if I'm honest. I've learned, truly, that life is what you make it. I can make friends anywhere and I can live my best life anywhere on this planet (or beyond). It's all down to me.
I could spend ages writing about all the things I've learned this year - tangible things (like how to navigate the English system or things I learned about Asia) - and I'm eventually will. But what is on my mind right now are the intangible things I've learned.
If an unhappiness follows you from one country to another, then you can't blame it on anything outside yourself. I learned that I was carrying a tremendous amount of baggage that was weighing me down, emotionally, mentally, and even physically (sad people don't get out much and so they're not in the best health).
Being isolated from your friends and family forces you to deal with certain things all on your own, and to abandon what would normally be cause for a full-on pity party. I think the best example of this was this past Christmas. I went into a full-on emotional tailspin because I was away from home, away from my friends. I literally spent four hours one night just curled up in a ball and crying. I say that not to elicit sympathy but to point out the ridiculousness of my behavior. I think had I been back home or more comfortable in my surroundings, I never would have snapped out of that funk. As it was, I had no choice but to face myself in the mirror and lay down the law. While it's okay to be sad every now and then, feeling sorry for myself gets me nowhere. It's a vicious cycle with no positive end.
Being in a new place where you need to make new friends forces you to really see yourself and really think about the kind of people you want in your life. I spent the first part of the year trying to be friends with anyone I could, and accepting dates haphazardly because I was - quite frankly - lonely. As I settled down, and began to know myself more, I realised that there are no hard and fast rules about these things. I needed to trust my gut - and realise some hard truths about myself. I'm picky, I'm demanding, I'm not going to be friends with everyone. I will always have many, many acquaintances - because I'm that crazy social extrovert who is doing the Centipede at group gatherings for no reason - but those who will be my friends, and those who could be something more - will always be few.
Being in a different time zone than most of your friends and family also forces you to have more detailed conversations with yourself - and to actually listen to what that voice inside your head is saying. And sometimes it doesn't make very much sense at all. In fact, sometimes that voice inside your head is speaking an entirely different language. This past year has allowed me to become fluent in my own language, and more importantly, to know when I'm feeding myself a line of bull. ;) Having that filter has also helped me to clearly define what I do and don't want from myself and what I deserve from friendships, career, relationships. The more I course-correct and add a "don't do that!" to my list, the more I learn and grow.
I think the biggest lesson I've learned between pre-England me and me now is confidence. I've always felt strongly about my abilities, but it has taken the daily battering of navigating a new country and culture to force me to have a better understanding of myself. It's a bit frightening, but I really feel as if this past year was when I finally... FINALLY... became an adult. A really fun, crazy, and completely impractical adult - but a grown-up nevertheless.
I realised the other day that I have finally stopped comparing everything to America, and that I don't immediately convert £ into $ in my head anymore. I have finally come to terms that England is not America and never will be, and if I can just get over that fact, I can begin to appreciate all of the wonderful things this country has to offer. I had cocktails in the May Fair bar in Westminster the other day, and it was fabulous to sit on a plush sofa drinking an overpriced vanilla martini and listen to the hilarious conversations of the nouveau-riche. London had better brace itself, because I'm all in for 2011.
I am so looking forward to the next 12 months. Life is truly what we make of it, and I intend to make this year absolutely stellar. When I write about my second anniversary in England, I hope that it is with happiness and joy and a huge smile, as I'm looking back at amazing adventures with amazing people. I also hope that I will finally have mastered the Soulja Boy dance, but I probably shouldn't get ahead of myself just yet... ;)
Federman out.
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