I Don’t Want To Be An Expat Anymore

Being an expat brings about visuals of women laughing together, dancing in the sunshine and running through the rain. Cafes, coffees, exotic treats and wonderful new experiences.

Being an expat has brought all of that.

I’ve made amazing friends, had life-changing experiences and grown so much as a person.

But just for today, I don’t want to be an expat anymore.

Being an expat can also mean not being entitled to basic things like sick leave, holiday pay, a full-time job, a lift in your sibling’s car, a snack at your parent’s house and it comes with the feeling of overwhelming guilt the minute someone — especially a friend — spends money on you. You come to know all too well how much items cost, down to the cent.

I Don’t Want To Be An Expat Anymore, Just For Today.

I don’t want to be an expat anymore. I’m so tired, I want a nap. The kind of nap where someone else takes care of you. The nap where someone else decides what to eat or where to go. The type of nap where you can drive up to your friend’s house, order takeaways and leave knowing you have a place to rest your head that night.

I want to take a nap where I understand how to use public transport. I want to look out the window and know exactly where to push the stop button. I want to sleep in a way where I can call an Uber knowing exactly where to stand and wait, I want to say “You can let me out here” knowing exactly where I am.

I want to throw out the rubbish without a sense of panic someone will see me. I know I throw the recyclable blue plastic with a hint of red aluminum in the wrong bin. I didn’t see the red, I swear. I want to know what the colours on the bin lids mean.

I want to understand what specials are on, I want to know if the sign reads Open or Closed. I want to know what the yellow stickers mean. I want to know the best time to walk into a shop to avoid the crowds.

I want to sleep in a way where I can understand the undertone my boss is using. They say there is no subtext in this land of the direct, but, is this true? I want to understand the subtle changes in tone of voice. I want to understand the body language.

No, I’m not flirting with you, I’m just bubbly. No, I don’t hate the city, I just miss the ocean — is that not okay?

I want to close my eyes and relax in the way I do when I know — by instinct — when to be on edge, who to trust, what that smile means, and why that person is staring at me.

Did I walk funny? Are my clothes on backwards? Oops, no, I’m walking on the wrong side of the footpath again.

I want to blink in the way where I can build up a savings account without unexpected expenses — a bus ride costs how much??

I want to sink into a chair wearing a dress, with my hair in a messy bun, I want to smile at my friends and feel normal.

One with the group.

Yes, I know, it’s a compliment — you find me interesting; curious; different. It’s lovely that you want to chat: I’m from New Zealand, yes it’s very far, yes I miss my family, no this kind of thing is normal where I’m from.

Thank you for your compliment, I do think differently to you and I love how you explain things to me like I was born yesterday — yes, I’ve been to Subway before, yes I know how to not step into a puddle, I’m aware there are four seasons.

Summer is hot, you say. Thank you for telling me.

I understand you are being nice when you warn me of the heat experienced in summer and it’s kind you laugh with me as the rain falls and I hold back tears not letting you see how hard I’m finding this day.

I don’t want to be laughed at, with love, for my differences. Not today. I don’t want the jokes about the rain as I pretend it’s not crushing my soul. I love hearing about the afternoon you will spend with your family as I try not to feel how much I want to hug mine.

I know it comes from a place of kindness when you tell me I work too much. I know I do. I know you mean well when you tell me to take a sick day, I’m sure they don’t care. A day of sleeping is nothing, it’s good, it’s healthy.

But it could be the difference between a home to go to or the foot of my friend’s bed.

I’m in a good situation. I’m so lucky.

I love being an expat. The independence I have and the pride I feel after solving every single one of my own problems on my own. I wouldn’t trade any second of this year, not ever.

But man, if I could just close my eyes, just for two seconds. If I could just nap, just a little rest.

Maybe with a cup of tea and a Toffee Pop waiting for me when I wake up?