If you were to think back over the years of your life … when was it that you felt most happy in your own skin? Who were you when you were the most confident? The most joyful? When was it that you were the best version of you?
This question came to me from a recent episode I watched on Grace and Frankie. If you watch that show, you know that the ladies recently went through a trauma and are in the process of reinventing themselves … at age 70. It’s down right inspiring and a lesson for us to remember that age is just a number.
I think somehow, over the years, many of us have forgotten the best version of ourselves … the essence, the thing that made us uniquely and unapologetically us. Do we try to cover up that uniqueness due to society pressures or because of layers of damage caused through the years? Have we just lost or forgotten who we really are?Read More»
Today I have no water. Today is also the day I planned to clean in preparation for the electricians who are coming tomorrow to rewire and upgrade the electric in our apartment. It will take them two days. On those days, we will have no electricity.
An excellent opportunity for spring cleaning, I thought. The sun is out, so let the cleaning begin.
Today I have no water and I have no idea why. Construction, I assume. This was an unplanned surprise. It is also not the first time we’ve been without water. So the laundry I hoped to do can not be done. The walls and floors, I planned to clean will – if done at all – have to be done with a spray bottle and cloth. It ain’t happening.Read More»
I’m not sure what I expected.
That’s a lie.
I was expecting a metamorphosis – a transition similar to the changing of a butterfly or the Parisian sophistication of Sabrina.
“Come to Sweden and be with me, and I promise you, we will have a beautiful life,” he said.
It is only now, after four years of challenges, that I see the glimmer of that beautiful life. It didn’t happen in one week, as when the butterfly emerges from its chrysalis. Nor did it happen in one year as in Sabrina’s case.Read More»
Happy Memorial Day weekend to all my friends who celebrate.
Home is where the heart is? “When I was back home …” Back home. “I need to go home for a visit.” These are terms which expats use all the time. Even while setting up a new home in a new country, we are strongly attached to the place of our origin.
“Where is your home?” he asks me with a look of such sadness it would break your heart. I know what he wants me to say.
Despite the amount of despair conversations such as these cause my fiancé, I just can’t – yet – seem to come to terms with exactly where my home is. Where is it that I feel most comfortable – and especially now that I’ve lived in Sweden for over two years – would my US home still feel like home? Am I a woman without a home? A woman with two homes?Read More»