I agree with the below -- the main and most legitimate factor leading to guilt is being away from family. It was only once I lost both parents that that low-grade weight disappeared and I was able to finally tell myself "this is TRULY home now." I don't want to depress you by telling you how many years in that was. However, as you mention, watching your own children thrive here is the best antidote.
Very well said and thank you for your insights. I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s no perfect solution, and that the guilt will just always have to be there, as you describe. As time passes and it becomes more and more clear that this is the best choice for my son, the guilt becomes more manageable, at least.
Brillaint framing here. That asymptote metaphor for acceptence captures something most people miss about longterm expat life. I moved to Berlin few years back and remember thinking the homesickness would fade, but instead it just morphed into this low-grade background hum. The guilt stuff esp rings true when family events happen and i'm just watching stories on Instagram instead of being there in person.
felt this so hard. Also wrote a post about lessons i learned int he last 3 years living in Paris. Looking forward to reading more of these onwards :))
I agree with the below -- the main and most legitimate factor leading to guilt is being away from family. It was only once I lost both parents that that low-grade weight disappeared and I was able to finally tell myself "this is TRULY home now." I don't want to depress you by telling you how many years in that was. However, as you mention, watching your own children thrive here is the best antidote.
Very well said and thank you for your insights. I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s no perfect solution, and that the guilt will just always have to be there, as you describe. As time passes and it becomes more and more clear that this is the best choice for my son, the guilt becomes more manageable, at least.
Brillaint framing here. That asymptote metaphor for acceptence captures something most people miss about longterm expat life. I moved to Berlin few years back and remember thinking the homesickness would fade, but instead it just morphed into this low-grade background hum. The guilt stuff esp rings true when family events happen and i'm just watching stories on Instagram instead of being there in person.