Written October 2022
My sabbatical is coming to an end and I have thoughts. Lucky you, whoever you might be, who gets to read them.
Here are the things that I have learned:
1 – Moving back to the US is not for the faint of heart.
It is HARD. That’s right, shouty caps HARD. I truly believe it is hard for anyone who has chosen the life lived overseas to move “home”, but I want to go ahead and make the bold statement that it’s especially hard for the single TCK who has chosen the life lived overseas.
I made the decision to move to a city (well, that’s a bold word after living in the mega-city of Chengdu here it is a city so a city I shall call it) that I haven’t lived in before as an adult in order to be closer to my parents and other older family members. I wanted to come back while it was a choice and enjoy this season in their lives while continuing to live out my own. Unfortunately, that means the connections I have here also tend to reflect the age of those marvelous family members. Now don’t get me wrong, I LOVE (shouty caps again, but seriously…LOVE!) spending time with all of them and hearing stories from days gone by in their lives. I’ve also joined a knitting/crocheting group at a church I visited, because hello crocheting is a daily part of my life and people who like doing such things are bound to be people that I will like.
And I love those connections, but I don’t have anyone in my life apart from family that I feel that I could call and have a coffee with while having a heart to heart. Every conversation with people my age in my new surroundings is a play-it-safe introductory conversation. I met a couple at an event that had lived overseas and for the first time in months I saw hope. Unfortunately I forgot to get their contact info.
As a single female in her mid-thirties who doesn’t have an in, there aren’t a lot of age-appropriate friendship options. The young adults’ groups at churches are a bit too young (and apparently it’s seen as creepy if I want to join them…that’s another rant for another day) and the Sunday school classes are mostly filled with more the young-at-heart-but-already-retired crowd. Small groups are for young families or other season-specific groups and when I ask (I really tried not to beg) to be put in the right one, I don’t get a response. I tried, I really did, but I refuse to be a broken record.
Because the truth is, I am broken. One Sunday at a church I had visited a few times, I tried to give the pastor a “thanks for being a safe space” greeting. Unfortunately it turned into a whole lot of tears. While he gave an incredibly supportive and meaningful response, and I truly respect his response, he’s the only one in that fellowship who has given me that ounce of compassion that I am apparently in deep need of. I’m hurting and feeling so alone and while I didn’t use the resources I had in China as often as I should have, at least I knew how to access them. Here I don’t.
I’m going to go ahead and say it: churches, you have got to do better. When you know that someone has moved back from serving overseas, expect them to need you to reach out. Expect them to need support. Expect them to not necessarily have a network. Too much help is better than not enough. I wish I had more.
2 – Your transition defaults may come back when repatriating.
I’m very proud of the fact that when I moved to China, I am the one who got my roommate into binge-watching shows. I am very good at engaging fully in a TV show when the outside world seems bleak. Example A: I’ve dreamed every night this week about scenarios that I could find myself in with the characters on Blue Bloods, because guess what I’ve been watching this month?
While I felt like I left Chengdu in a very healthy place in June, being in a new context and navigating who I am in that new context has shaken me back to that 24-year-old who was trying to figure out life in a strange new culture.
Unfortunately, I didn’t end up landing in my new surroundings as the tourist that I had planned to be. Instead, I landed feeling like a failure who should know this place after years of visiting but who desperately wanted to teleport to places where I had friends/confidents that weren’t related to me. In the words of a very wise friend of mine, what I needed was mercy and grace, from those around me and from myself. I am not so good at extending that tenderness to myself.
The exception: I am on a very intentional hunt for a favorite coffee shop in town. There are a few top contenders, but no solid front-runner yet.
3 – Reconnecting is great, but doesn’t necessarily help the friend hunt in new settings.
I’ve had a hard time with the balance of leaning in to old friendships and making space to try to find new ones. While I sometimes try to convince people that I became an introvert while living overseas, people who know me know that that is so far from the truth. I thrive on connections. I live for late night talks on couches with heart friends and opportunities to be the auntie to kiddos of kindred spirits. I thrive on connection.
Much of my sabbatical was spent travelling and reconnecting with people that I love, and it was so so soooooo good. Since returning to the US in mid-June, I’ve visited friends in Washington, Missouri, Texas, Arizona, Oregon, Georgia, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Idaho. I’ve changed diapers, read bedtime stories, been picked up at the airport by former students, swam with cousins’ kids, gone on mountain hikes, and so much more. I know how ridiculously blessed I am to have friends that are such a delight to visit. I know that. But it’s also hard when they are so spread and out and I am not within an hour of any of those heart friends. The blessing and the curse of connections forged on the other side of the world: they stay deep but wide.
Making friends in a place where it seems like everyone has been forever is slow going, and I’m still trying to figure out how to do it exactly. Prayers appreciated.
4 – Rest requires intentionality.
I just started sleeping in this week. The last week of October. I start work again next week. That’s all I have to say about that.
5 – Dating solves nothing.
Okay I use the term dating here incredibly loosely. I went on one date. One. It wasn’t very good. One of my goals for sabbatical was going on a date. Check.
Now one date isn’t for lack of trying…sort of. I’ve downloaded all the apps and attempted to make myself marketable. Yep I said it, marketable. Ridiculous. I lowered my “swipe right” standards (and swiping right isn’t just tinder…which I don’t have…don’t judge), paid for supposedly fool-proof subscriptions, and attempting to figure out flirting on an app. I even downloaded a new “Christian” dating app that turned out to be the WORST for requests for midnight rendez-vous.
A few weeks ago I realized that I was putting a lot of energy into these apps. More energy than I was putting into making friends. Hello gut punch reality check. Apps have been deleted. New mission: make at least one friend.
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