Sarah WallockAfter having met a number of people with international relationships, like myself and Nick, it has been interesting to reflect on the ways we’ve had to shape-shift in different places that we’ve visited or lived together.
- Meeting Up in Unfamiliar Locales in an International Relationship
- Edinburgh: Lost and Together in a Foreign City
- Seeking Normality in an International Relationship
- Creating a New Normal in an International Relationship
- Why Did Queenstown Feel like Home?
- Finding Home All Over the World
Meeting Up in Unfamiliar Locales in an International Relationship
The moment I knew that my sensation of placeless-ness in the world was abnormal was in Edinburgh.
I didn’t feel like I fit in in the U.K. when visiting Nick, but I didn’t feel at home where I was living in upstate New York either.
Edinburgh: Lost and Together in A Foreign City
I had insisted on taking the public bus to our Airbnb and had gotten lost on the way. The Scottish accent sounded like a foreign language and I was very confused and misunderstood by the bus driver…
I was wandering around Edinburgh late at night without a working phone or any good sense of direction. Finally, I found the little chalet beside the river. I punched in the code and entered the building. I think I must’ve been the first person to ever stay there because everything was empty and immaculate.
An empty white shell on the interior and a rustic charming exterior. Something felt so sterile about this apartment with no emotion. From the inside, you couldn’t tell you were in Edinburgh. It could have been anywhere in the world.
Nick arrived, a little less lost, out of an Uber from the airport. We hadn’t seen each other in months because we were long-distance at the time.
We hugged and cried and hugged and cried. I was supposed to be excited to see him, but I couldn’t help from feeling upset and deflated. And there we laid, staring at the ceiling, in the middle of nowhere.
We had been here before.
I felt like I knew everything about him but he was a stranger at the same time. I had a similar feeling with my family when I returned after living in New Zealand for 2 years. Even though we talked on the phone everyday, I missed seeing how they existed in the world, what they wore, their mannerisms, and how they interacted with each other and other people. It’s as if they were somehow different than I imagined but also exactly the same.
It was in that moment in Edinburgh that I knew I would do everything I could to not do long-distance anymore.
Seeking Normality in an International Relationship
Another time Nick was visiting me in the U.S., we drove across the country. I gave myself a haircut in the bathroom in an Airbnb in Santa Fe, New Mexico. We walked to Whole Foods, filled our grocery bags with food, cooked and ate dinner at a stranger’s dining room table. That was probably one of the most “normal” experiences we had had together. Nothing ever belonged to us.
Hiking Half Dome was cool, waterskiing on Bass Lake was nice, and running around New York for the weekend and enjoying fancy brunches was amazing… but it all felt like an extended holiday.
Somehow snuggling up in a tent near the Grand Canyon, with no running water or toilets, felt more like home than the fancy studio apartment in Santa Fe night before. There’s something about waking up to the sunrise and brushing your teeth outside that feels like home.
Maybe camping felt more like home because it’s how we knew to exist together, mirroring our summers at camp.
Creating a New Normal in an International Relationship
Living in the U.S. or U.K. wouldn’t work because of visas, so we gave New Zealand, a neutral place, a try. We both shared one close friend in common from the camp where we met. But besides that, neither of us had any connections or investments in the country. It was somewhere beautiful where we could both get visas. We finally had the opportunity to explore something that felt solely ours to share.
Our little green 1997 Mitsubishi Chariot drove us 1,000s of kilometers across New Zealand, but it didn’t feel like our home right away. The North Island didn’t exactly feel like home when we stepped foot off the plane. But when we arrived in Queenstown, it started to feel like home relatively quickly.
Home isn’t just about being together. It is about finding the parts of life that matter. Home is sharing how your day went. It is routine. Home is getting involved in the community. It is living in the mountains.
Prior to New Zealand, for our long-distance relationship to work, we had to find home within ourselves. We both had a strong sense of independence. So when we were finally able to live together, we had to create a new normal and define what home meant together.
We still feel at home waking up to the sunrise in the mountains, but we also have a morning routine with fresh coffee, eggs, and wrapping up in a fuzzy blanket on the couch.
We loved the new normal more than either of us had expected.
Why Did Queenstown Feel like Home?
Why was it Queenstown, that we were able to find that sense of comfort and belonging? What makes somewhere feel like home in an international relationship?
Well first off, Queenstown is heaven. Just look at it…
Secondly, Queenstown was full of people like us. A haven of active 20-30 year-old adventure-seekers from around the world. It is a place bursting with energy, life, outdoor activity, and nightlife.
Thirdly, New Zealand has a massive British influence and cultural sway, but Queenstown feels distinctively like an expat city. Because it is one. People understood where we were coming from being in an international relationship and living abroad. Queenstown felt just like home…
Home was when we went backpacking with 15 of our friends on one weekend off work. Home was when I created and ran a dance company abroad. Home was when Nick played soccer games on Saturdays with his team. Home was driving in every direction to National parks or forests. Home was snowboarding in the winters and swimming in the summers. Home was learning about Kiwi culture, drinking flat whites, watching rugby, and kicking back at summer barbies. Home was Nick screaming at his phone screen watching Chelsea games. Home was listening to one of our favorite podcasts by American Jewish girls from New York while driving across New Zealand.
Home was something we created and continue to create.
But most importantly, I realized that home isn’t just one place. Home isn’t solely the U.S. or the U.K. or New Zealand, to us, it is a mix of all three.
Finding Home All Over the World
After spending time abroad, it’s hard to feel completely at home in your home country.
I recently moved to Mammoth Lakes, California to take a new job opportunity. There are parts of Mammoth that feel like home. Yet, many things I associate with home are nowhere to be found here.
Living at the base of a ski mountain feels like home. The Lakes Basin feels like home. Teaching local dance classes feels like home. Drinking fancy coffee feels like home. Eating steak tacos most definitely feels like home.
Even though I’m speaking English, driving on the right side of the road again, and cued into many American cultural references, Nick and I have developed our own way of existing that’s neither here nor there. Like many other international couples must do. A little bit of this, a little bit of that!
We talk in a weird mixture of British-Kiwi-American slang. We cook Mexican food from SoCal, reminisce on our favorite hikes in New Zealand, try to mimic the majorly chill Kiwi mindset, and enjoy British comedians and game-shows. It’s the mix of these cultures that feels like home.
Being in an international relationship has pushed us to explore corners of the world we never would have gone to. It’s also been incredibly hard at times.
But whether we are in a lifeless apartment in Edinburgh, camping in the the Grand Canyon, sitting at a stranger’s dining room table in Santa Fe, running around the markets in London, barbecuing with friends in Queenstown, or exploring Mammoth, we know we can find home within ourselves because we have been doing it for years.
Such a great post Sarah.
Thank you John!