Taking Route

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We're Just Going to Move Again

Guest article by Jaclyn Rios Hoselton

When I moved to Germany with my husband and one year old child, we figured we’d have two years to live here, three if we were lucky. We packed six large suitcases, bought three one-way plane tickets, and moved into a very tiny apartment we furnished on a tight budget from the IKEA discount section. I stocked my home with what we needed to get by. Why settle in when we only had a couple years here?

I stocked my heart in a similar fashion.

The initial transition period for an expat involves many pressures. In my situation, basic life skills had to be relearned or adjusted. Not only were we experiencing the stress of moving, but I was also learning the language, figuring out new social cues, adapting to the culture, and even new weather patterns. Moreover, my expat story involved being a new mom, and only two years into marriage. Everything was new.

Additionally, we needed to build a community. Our original goal for this was ambitious. We desired to make friends with locals, and not lean comfortably into the American or English-speaking expats bubbles. We were determined to actually practice the language. While the idea was good, my particular personality found it very difficult to put into practice. Making friends as an adult is a chore for most, and, as an introvert, even more complicated. On top of all the other changes going on in my life, the energy needed to build a community in a new language, in a new country, was incredibly difficult for me to summon.

For the first three years of my expat life, I struggled. Was building a community worth the effort if we were just going to move again? 

There were times I did not accept or reciprocate friendship because we were not “settling” here. This led me to project my unsettled, anxious subconscious onto my relationships. When I introduced myself to someone, I would often tack on “we may be moving soon” into the conversation. As a young mom, this did not only affect my own friendships, but also the friendships of my children. My extroverted husband didn’t seem to have a problem with this. No matter where we went, it seemed natural to him to integrate and pursue relationships. Why was I having such a difficult time?

“I don’t know where we’ll be next year,” I’d continue to tell myself.

But, does anyone?

Things started to change in year four when we were pregnant with baby number three and moving out of our tiny, let’s-just-get-by-apartment. We had not planned to be here for four years, but my husband unexpectedly got a job at the university. It seemed obvious our stay would be indefinite.

I got tired of waiting around for life to start. It slowly began to dawn on me that I had already wasted so much time by holding back for something that had yet to happen. Life is now. I would not get another season of having babies and toddlers. I would never be in my early thirties again. Slowly, my mindset started to change and I stopped tacking on, “we may be moving soon,” to all my conversations.

There were many factors involved in this mindset change. It wasn’t anything dramatic, but rather, a layering of various complex developments. One large component of it was that I enrolled in a degree program at the local university. By giving myself a specific and personal goal to work towards—not tied to anything but myself and this city—Germany began to feel more like home. Also, the work that I put into language learning slowly began to produce fruit. While I wasn’t fluent, it became easier to read emails or ask questions in German. Though cross-cultural relationships were still difficult for me to make, I was gradually making more efforts. 

It’s been eight years now and I am still living in the same city. I have learned that “not being settled” did not need to consume me in those early years, nor does it need to consume me now. While these were natural reactions, it is good not to worry about long-term eventualities. Simply stewarding what I am given each day is enough.

To the “just-arrived expat,” I would like to say: live as though you are planted in your new country, even if it’s for a short amount of time. Invest in where you are. Don’t view this move as an interruption to long term plans, but as an investment into your life and an opportunity to cultivate new and rich understandings of the world. 

This doesn’t have to be on a grand scale and you don’t need to tackle everything at once. Take it one small step at a time. Don’t worry if you will be around long enough to fluently learn the language. You need the language today, so learn some words and phrases. A local is reaching out? Reciprocate. Care for this person without wondering if the relationship will last long term. Make efforts to love your neighbor, even if they seem like small efforts.

I am still working towards putting this mentality into practice, but this mental shift has been rewarding and worthwhile. Living insularly, preoccupied with the self, is not loving to others, and will not allow you to thrive. If we think about our time and activity abroad as both investing into our future and engaging with the local community, it can be an enriching cultural experience that expands our horizons—even if we might be moving soon.


This guest article was written by Jaclyn Rios Hoselton. Jaclyn is an American expat living in Heidelberg, Germany. She has an MA in English Literature from Universität Heidelberg and is a wife and mom of three. She alternates between being hunched over the desk writing down words, and bursting out of the front door to run, bike, or garden. She loves a good story and exploring new cultures. You can follow her on Instagram @jaclynsbooks or Twitter @jaclynmarina.