Yesterday, I saw a post over on @clemmietelford’s Instagram account and it really struck a chord with me. You can read the original article, written by Nikki Ramsden here: 'What Village? In Search of a Support Network.'
As someone who lives away from family and the close friends we have back in the U.K., so many things resonated with me.
Lately I’ve found it annoying when I hear things like “You’re so lucky to live in such a beautiful place.” Aside from the fact that putting it down to luck totally undermines my husband’s skills in being offered a job here, or the fact that I sacrificed my own career to give us the best chance, Nikki's article really summed up for me why it has been starting to grate a bit.
A difficult choice
Living miles away from your support network IS tough. We knew it would be and we chose to do it anyway because of the quality of life that it would afford us - and would enable us to give Jude. I am aware that this was a choice we made and it’s what we signed up for.
But it was a bloody tough one all the same.
A little over a year down the line, I do still feel that we’ve made the right decision. Even so, I do feel guilty that while we have given Jude some wonderful experiences and opportunities he wouldn't get back in Manchester, we have removed the opportunity for Jude to grow up close to his family.
This is exacerbated each time they visit us, or we go back to the U.K. I see how much joy Jude gets from this...and I feel how painful it is to have to walk away from that.
Just after we'd waved my Mum off at the airport this last time, an article cropped up on my phone. It was an article about how growing up close to grandparents has scientific benefits.
As well as the obvious babysitting rewards, these benefits also include greater resilience and less chance of adult depression. As you can imagine, having just left my Mum boarding a plane to travel 1000 miles away, the guilt got real.
It has especially been in the forefront of my mind since my mother in law died a few months ago too. She was incredibly supportive of our decision to move here, and was very proud of us all... but part of me feels terrible for 'stealing' away the chance to spend more time with her grandson before she died.
Separation anxiety
It also rocks you to the core when something terrible happens to those back home, and you can't immediately be there. Never has the distance felt as great as it does now.
Again though, I am certain we’ve made the correct decision for us, right now at least. But lucky? I’m definitely not certain I would call it that.
On the surface it might seem it, but we are like the swans you’ll often find knocking about these parts - gliding along gracefully while paddling really bloody hard beneath the surface. Alright, so we might not appear quite that graceful but you know what I mean (we're also probably quite prone to the odd vicious outburst if pushed...)
The need for a break
Of course we do get to look at beautiful mountains and experience some truly magical things... and we still have to pinch ourselves from time to time, but what’s often overlooked is the fact that my husband and I have zero time alone together outside of the apartment.
It’s not that it’s infrequent, it’s that it's akin to sighting a real life unicorn. It's virtually non existent... and that can take its toll if you let it.
Getting out is good for the soul
Apart from when our Mums have been here, the only time my husband and I have been on our own together outside of our home in over a year has been for terrible reasons. One was when I had a miscarriage and had to go into hospital. After that, it was on the drive to and from my Mother in Law’s funeral. Romantic hey?
I was also quite fortunate that my miscarriage fell on a bank holiday here as it meant I could call a friend to step in and look after Jude, no questions asked.
Had she been working, or had she not been the beautifully kind soul she is, he would have had to come with us and it would have made the whole awful experience infinitely worse.
There's no doubt about it: having very few people you can call when things hit rock bottom and you need someone on hand right away, is a bit of worry.
Making it work
However, though time spent together outside of our home is scarce, when committed to the cause, it is quite surprising how special you can make a date night in the house when there’s nobody else to do the cooking, or the washing up and you have a toddler who could wake up at any moment...
We also do have lots of quality family time together - one of the biggest reasons we moved here - and that’s wonderful but what we don’t have is breathing space.
You have to work really hard not to start to take frustrations out on each other. Hard enough when you are already knackered from having the disturbed sleep which often comes with toddler territory. Even harder when there’s no one else around to help diffuse the tension.
We have some amazing friends here but - until we get over the language barrier - most of them are expats too. On one hand, they absolutely empathise with how tricky things can be, and become very quickly like a second family, but on the other hand, it’s hard to ask them for help when you know they are no doubt stretched to the limit themselves.
Grateful
Everyone has their own challenges and I am fully aware of that, so I am not looking for sympathy here. I don't want to be seen as complaining either, as I am very grateful for all we have.
I suppose I had just been struggling to articulate something which has been niggling me for a while, until Nikki's article came along.
I think what I am ultimately trying to say is that whole thing about not just judging someone else by their highlight reel. We have a wonderful life together with an incredible backdrop... but it’s not that we are luckier than anyone else (we’ve definitely had our fair share of shit to deal with too.)
Watering the grass
Instead we are prepared to take risks and opportunities, make sacrifices and work damn hard to make sure that things pan out as well as they can.
And like with everyone who does those things, you find that the grass tends to be greener where you water it... just so long as there is water left in the well.
So, if you want to sample the high life of Lugano in exchange for some babysitting and the chance to get my hair done, or go for a gynae appointment without a two year old in tow, give us a shout, yeah?