Heart and Seoul

I won’t lie. It’s been a rough week. I totally underestimated the emotional impact of leaving my kids and those delicious grand babies. Expatriating has been much harder than I anticipated. No one is more surprised by this than I – except maybe (poor) Mack.

“You are the strongest person I know. What’s going on?” He questioned, when I refused to get out of bed on Friday (which, coincidentally, was my 64th birthday. That doesn’t take a rocket scientist). He didn’t understand the change, after 44 years of pretty stoic behavior in sometimes difficult situations. I didn’t understand it either.

So, here’s how every morning of Week #1 in Seoul went:
Wake up.
Commence a crying jag.
Throw a hissy fit.
Threaten to call a taxi to take me to the airport to return to my Bandido-infested apartment in Midlothian.
Remember that I’m the one who got this whole thing started.
Straighten up.
Fly right.
Go exploring.
Feel better.
Start over with the sequence the next day.

I am ashamed of this. I pride myself on being pretty even-keeled and emotionless (not a healthy thing, I know). I hesitated to write about my failings as an explorer/adventurer, because really, who wants to read about a sniveling baby?

But yesterday, when I was finally beginning to feel like myself again, I asked Mack what he thought about me coming clean. I thought he made a good point when he said that it was definitely more helpful to someone who might be considering a change, to know that it’s not all fun and games; that there are emotional hills and valleys (what Mel has described as “waves” as he commences his journey to NYC).

Yesterday was a turning point for me. I know that there will be other “valley” days, but I began to have fun and get excited about this opportunity again. Maybe it was jet lag. Maybe it was the birthday:( Or maybe that’s just how it is when you pack up and leave your life (even if it was a choice).

So, that’s all the belly-aching. Onward and upward from now on. It really will be an adventure.