We have applied for permanent residence to Canada for the husband. After almost five years of being here, I feel like it’s time we made a major change back to…what? Non third world living I guess. It is a huge, huge decision. It means starting over. But with two giant reminders that we have added responsibilities now. We will be homeless. We will be unemployed. At least for a while, it will be incredibly stressful. The husband has devoted so much time and love into his first baby – the pizza place. I have a lot of guilt about asking him to abandon that for uncertainty. There is certainty in our relationship, in our love for each other and love for our evolving family. And we will be moving to my former home town to be near family in order to have added support. It’s all what-ifs at this point but we don’t talk about it all too often because what-ifs can drive you a bit nutty if you let them.
My biggest fear is the ever looming threat of unhappiness. What if this general state of blah is just how I am? What if location doesn’t matter? What if we move there and I realize we had an amazing life here that I took for granted? To some degree I can answer these questions. My life lacks balance now – my life is devoid of relationships with other people and I know that puts pressure on the husband (which he handles pretty gracefully). I know I won’t regret time spent at home with Zizi and the new baby; the life of a housewife can be challenging no matter where you are. I don’t really believe that I am doomed to be continually blah. I am fairly okay at being alone but I think five years of reclusiveness (with two years in solitary!) can be daunting for anyone.
These major life decisions seem to come down to pros and cons. In all honesty, I think it’s my turn. It’s my turn to feel normal walking down the street. It’s my turn to have meaningful relationships with friends and family. We are taking a giant “gulp” as a family and jumping into the next phase. It’ll work out. It always does.