Realizations...

Change can be a scary thing.

This weekend I have spent time packing up my things for yet another move.

And it got me thinking...

I have moved 22 times in the last 10 years.

2 of those times were to different countries.

I have made the moves 20 of the times on my own.

As I reuse the boxes and cross out the 7th+ line of labeling I have a moment of panic.

I'm making a move again.

This time feels more grown up and less exciting.

No new country to experience, no new cultures to embrace, and an actual career type move that I would consider for longer than 1 or 2 years (which again is a new experience for me).

I have a slight feeling of apprehension...like the next step (though not seeming big) feels enormous on my heart.

I still have so much "unfinished business" like finding where the heck Spencer is to get a divorce, to continuing to ignore Jacob's persistent messages (which I'm still going strong since May 24th yea me), and to finding out where I fit/don't fit when it comes to my family.

I have a lot of fears too.

I fear the emotional and financial complexity of international divorce.

I fear the new big boys club job I've accepted...what if they don't think I'm good enough once I start.

I fear loneliness in a new city where old friends have their own lives and how will I fit it to all of that.

I fear being unhappy in Canada and the strong desire to leave the country (again).

There are also so many things to look forward to...

My own place that is just mine that I picked out on my own.

Embracing a new city.

Finding new friends and spending time with old friends.

Exploring what lays ahead for MM and me (albeit extremely slowly and cautiously and just so terrified to tell him about Spencer).

Doing it on my own and making it past my mum's 90 day expiration date of me surviving in the TDot.

Kicking butt at the career job and blowing everyone away at how my experiences all over the world make me unique and special and successful.

Finding my home.

My home isn't here in my hometown...I'm not sure it ever was.

Last night my brother came home from being away on a 10 day vacation to the west coast.

He asked me to drop him off at my parents (he can't drive...long story).

I had no plans (don't mock my Saturday day/night of packing haha) so I agreed.

TOTALLY blanking about this story HERE from the co-worker.

As I pulled up to my parents in sweats, a sports bra and a ratty t-shirt from my high school cheerleading days.

I saw all the cars outside my parents place.

My brother exclaimed..."nice! a party...I though mum and dad only had one couple over"

It was clear by the cars all up and down the circle and street there was WAYYYY more than one couple over. 

To show ya I even snapped the cell phone pic...though you can't see all the cars wrapped all the way around the rest of the street you get the idea.

I guess he maybe didn't know about it...I just shrugged and made the excuse that I was in way too awful of clothes to make an appearance.

My brother hopped out and made his way in.

And it bothered me.

It bothered me that no phone call or anything from my parents.

The fact that at work on Monday people will comment or ask me about it and I will try not to look surprised or silly for not being there.

I hate the drama of it and the fakeness that occurs with these gatherings.

The fact that my parents can be so angry at me for not sharing every little detail in my life when this is what happens.

I guess that is why a part of me is so confused.

How are people so happy that you aren't living across the world but then act like this.

I am trying to figure out a path of my life.

I had a long talk with Val about this as we drove back to Kingston.

And she, at the end of it said...Teagan, your friends are your family.  We love you so much.  We are behind you no matter what.  You can do this.  I think you will be really happy here.

I'm lucky to have my girls.

I'm lucky to have my family too...I think a lot of things just don't translate sometimes with an immigrant family...the expectations and things I learned growing up about family just isn't what my family is or ever will be.

Finally, I don't want to be alone...though I know I can survive on my own and have a good life...I just don't want to.

I want to be with someone that has the fierce loyalty, understanding of who I am and the unconditional love that my friends have for me.

I want a husband that I can trust and love with all my heart.

And most of all, I hope that one day the nagging fear of being abandoned again is silenced forever.