Romanticize Your (Expat) Life
“On the surface, this trend popularized on the clock app preferred by Gen Z (you know the one, even if you don’t have it on your phone) seems like a superficial avenue for creating more highlight reels for your social media channels. I’m sure some people use it that way, but I’m here to argue that there’s value in acknowledging the highlights, especially in expat life.”
One of the expat influencers I follow on Instagram, Cecilia, lives on Svalbard—an island close to the North Pole. As you can imagine, it’s cold there. The extremely low daily temperature features heavily in this influencer’s stories. On Svalbard, there are no trees. The land is frozen tundra—permafrost—so there are no gardens. The sun shines twenty-four hours a day through the summer, but the high is only six degrees celsius. They call that the Polar Day. And in the winter, Svalbard experiences four months of complete darkness, called the Polar Night, and even longer without actually seeing the sun. It’s fun that Svalbard claims to be Santa Claus’ home, but it is literally the last place on earth I even want to visit, much less live.
In spite of all the reasons I can think of that make this part of God’s creation uninhabitable, including weekly snowstorms, shoveling snow, always wearing multiple layers and waterproof outerwear, carrying a shotgun to protect oneself from polar bears, and the fact that the phrase “where the sun don’t shine” applies in the literal sense, this influencer makes a living showcasing why Svalbard is the best place to live, and, more than that, I believe her!
Somehow, Cecilia has convinced me, a self-avowed warm weather person who loves trees, sandy beaches and visiting the tropical house at the zoo in what I like to call Marchuary (because it's still not warm enough for me) that Svalbard is a magical place.
How does she do it? And, more importantly, why does it matter?
Cecilia, an expat herself, is a naturally cheerful person and a gifted videographer. She also does what some people on the internet call “romanticizing your life.” On the surface, this trend popularized on the clock app preferred by Gen Z (you know the one, even if you don’t have it on your phone) seems like a superficial avenue for creating more highlight reels for your social media channels. I’m sure some people use it that way, but I’m here to argue that there’s value in acknowledging the highlights, especially in expat life.
According to a quick google search, romanticizing your life means “taking the time to appreciate your day-to-day life, no matter how mundane some parts might be. It means understanding that even the small things in your life are important and valuable to your happiness.”
That sounds lovely, right? The foreigner’s daily life is so often muddled by expat paperwork, language bungles, making friends and raising kids in unfamiliar cultures, learning to enjoy food that is different from what we ate growing up, growing immunities to new viruses (which is another way to say fighting illnesses), cooking the building blocks of every meal from scratch, and bearing the scrutiny of neighbors. Is it possible to romanticize life that is frequently stressful and rarely boring?
And for some of you, “frequently stressful and rarely boring,” has meant loss, terror, and sacrifice. Months of darkness have descended, uninvited, because of your circumstances. You might use words like “permafrost” and “barren” to describe relationships on the field. Your children have gotten terribly sick, your spouse hospitalized. You’ve had to leave your home immediately and under the cover of darkness. A massive earthquake tore through your town, or an army invaded. You ran out of money. Your marriage suffered. Depression settled upon you, unprovoked. Maintaining a habit of enjoying small pleasures or keeping a gratitude list will help in a season like that. But we must also remember that we are called to weep with those who weep. Sometimes we will simply sit in our sorrows, (or sit with our friends in their sorrows), and make our laments, and that too is part of expat life.
Regardless of the reason the flame has nearly been stamped out, here are five ways to kickstart a little romanticism for your life abroad. You don’t have to share on social media, but think about things in the spirit of social media: life is not a highlight reel, but it is good to acknowledge the highlights. The hard things will still be hard, but maybe, while things are hard, you can notice what’s good and beautiful and be grateful for it.
Shift your perspective. Lots of people dream about and make plans to move abroad, but you actually did it! You live abroad. Yes, sometimes that means to face extra unique challenges that are extremely frustrating, but it also means you’ve done something brave and exciting. Your expat life might not feel very romantic while you’re waiting for the fourth load of laundry to finish in your barbie-sized washing machine, but it is!
Enjoy the food. Your host country surely boasts a delicious treat that can’t be found anywhere else in the world. Maybe it’s a noodle dish from the street vendor down the block, organic coffee that was grown, picked and roasted in the same place, or the comfort food that is Spanish churros with chocolate.
Celebrate your language and culture acquisition. If you’ve learned (or are still learning) to communicate in a second language, next time you do so successfully, take note. It’s absolutely incredible to me that I understand jokes in a language I didn’t grow up speaking. Not all the jokes, mind you, but some. Speaking multiple languages is a miracle.
Go outside. Your host country has unique flora and fauna. Have you ever taken a walk to see how many different flowers you can find growing on bushes, between sidewalk cracks, or on your neighbor’s balcony? Take photos, even bad ones. One of our writers keeps a folder on her phone of beautiful photos she’s taken in her host country.
Take a staycation. A staycation is the ultimate act of romanticizing your life, because it offers the opportunity to enjoy an experience you might have taken for granted. For example, when the sun hasn’t yet arrived in Svalbard but the sky has a light, bluish tint to it, Cecilia posts stories about Cabin Season. Groups of friends take snowmobiles to different parts of the island, where they stay in old cabins previously used by miners. I dislike being cold, camping, and using inadequate facilities, three things encompassed by cabin season on Svalbard. Yet when Cecilia posts videos of her cabin trips, I believe I would enjoy eating homemade waffles by lantern-light while sitting on a pile of snow.
Romanticizing your life is just trendy talk for enjoying the little things. As an expat, so many of the "little things" are really the big things because they're done differently in a new context. The world is so full of wonder. Acknowledge moments of awe, both big and small, to stoke the fire and breathe new life into the flame. That will keep you warm when you feel frosty towards your expat life.