Be Kind.

I have tucked this little piece of my digital footprint away for two years. At first, I couldn't bear the thought of visiting the photos of Berlin, Amsterdam, Perugia, etc. when in comparison to the same view of Selinsgrove day in and day out. Then slowly this blog faded away. My last post was two years ago. I can't believe it. I still remember the feelings of packing up my apartment in Lichterfelde West and saying goodbye to so many dear, dear friends.

I'm not sure if anyone cares about this blog now that I'm not globetrotting. Maybe, maybe not. But tonight for the first time since that last post, I feel like sharing again. Being able to write is part of my core and that I haven't felt willing to share that in two years. This should tell you how my transition back to the States went (is going). It's always a process.

During the first months, I could not put into words what I was feeling. I searched the internet, scouring for someone to have felt the same. To have the power to put into words the distress I was feeling. Some tried. Some got the gist. Some failed. At the time, I saved this quote to my dashboard...

“The idyllic mayhem of two cultures colliding just doesn’t seem as funny anymore.”― Kris Kidd

This quotes and a very accurate account from The Guardian that my cousin shared, I held on to these tightly. It's hard to explain why Home does not feel like home and why I felt so detached. I felt guilty for feeling this way and sometimes still do. These emotions that I couldn't place into words created anger. Anger at myself for making the "big move" as I named it. Anger for thinking this would be easy. Anger because the world did not pause. Anger because well, Berlin was not a skip away, nor was Italy or any other place that I'm dying to see and visit. Mixed with anger I was oozing with guilt. Guilt for not being able to explain to family and friends. Guilt for crying every time someone asked, "How are you?" Sidenote: I have NEVER cried so much in my life, especially in public. I am NOT a crier so cue the anger that came with this. 

This year I continue to feel guilty because of my students last year. They got the best version of me I could give last year, but it wasn't the best me. I see them daily and just wish we could relive the year together. I wish I could give more. I wonder if this is just the role of a teacher or it's true because of moving different countries, different cultures, different population. I will find out at the end of this school year. 

Moving forward, I am healing and I am finding my new normal. My summers are the opposite of when I lived in Berlin. Now I spend my school year saving for a summer trip to Europe. Summer 2017 I stayed in Berlin while traveling to Croatia and Portugal (two new countries). One day, I will write about this but not today, not tonight. 

I still bike to school from time to time. I just started training for a 10k run (2nd race, 1st one completed in Berlin). I still struggle to learn German. I still like eating fresh, local food. I still like craft beer. I still have a love for shopping. I still read. I am still me in many senses and yet I feel years and miles away from my former life. Finding the normal. The new. 

My grandma and I were talking about Berlin tonight. She asked me, "Are you homesick?" I am not sure if she realized it but she said homesick. Not missing it or longing- homesick. Berlin is not my first home and I don't wish it to be my first and only. But it is home. And I am something more than missing and longing for it. 

Thank you for letting me share again.