We’ve been living in Wales for about 3 months now. We’re finally at that point where day-to-day things feel normal but perhaps a little rough around the edges. Maybe you know what I mean:
We have real furniture in all the rooms, but we’re still using makeshift curtains. We have our own car again, but the garage also has a bunch of unopened moving boxes. We have most of our clutter put away into shelves and cupboards, but our pictures are still leaning against the walls, waiting to be hung up.
It’s that point where we’re on the verge of being settled in. I have to push myself a bit now — I think the moving-in stage is easier than this part. This is the part where I can’t hide behind filing paperwork and arranging furniture anymore, where I have to start making an effort to meet new people and find new activities.
It’s tempting to keep myself busy with other things. Keep one foot out the door, just in case. But I spent two years living like that in Germany, and I’m done. Time to go for it. Hello, Wales, I think I’m here to stay!
Expat Linguist 