When the dust settles
In a few days time, we will have been in the UK for five months. That’s almost half a year! It has gone by so quickly, but I also think I should get some kind of a badge for the 143 days of “settling in” graft I’ve put in. Repatriating has been one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life. It sits somewhere above emigrating and mercifully quite a bit below IVF on my hard things to do chart. I think what I find hardest is the underlying sense of being just a little bit lost in my life. Which is even more unsettling when you are a 41 year old wife and mother, who should really have her shit together by now. In actual fact my level of “togetherness” is probably not bad, all things considered. I feel like I grew up a lot in my thirties and it turned out to be quite a decade of achievements and milestones, personally and professionally. I have my faults and I still wonder at …