I usually love the start of a new year. I love the feeling of a fresh start and a fresh start, the cracking of my spine when I open a new diary; the crisp white of the blank pages before us; I love the chance to start a new year with new goals and a long list of things to check off in the year ahead.
Unfortunately, 2019 shouldn’t start on such a big foot. A week before leaving the UK, I realized that I would have to move when I returned to Sydney. and as someone who yearns for stability and whose home has long been my haven, the sense of upheaval I felt was enormous. Regular readers of my blog will know that something similar happened when I was living in LA last year when I was texted that my landlady sold my apartment while I felt like a million miles away overseas. And when 2018 came to an end; As the days faded into a festive mood, a feeling of fear began to tarnish the originally happy return to Sydney.
After the NYE celebrations were over – a breathtaking spectacle that Sydney does better than most – I spent the first three days of the year thinking of the homesickness I had not felt in nearly three and a half years since moving to Sydney had experienced being hit sideways before. The guy who was not cured by salt water or ocean, or an early morning sunrise overlooking the harbor or a walk on the coast or the sand under my feet. The distance between me and my loved ones in the UK seemed insurmountable, and I felt an increasing feeling of heartbreak as I realized it would be months before I saw them again. Perhaps it’s the privilege that a freelance career gives me when it comes to longer trips home that most expats can do. or the double-edged sword of having a foothold in Sydney; the other in London. Maybe it was the longer time I was allowed to spend with my family during my favorite time of year; Maybe it had more to do with my older Gramps than ever. Maybe it fell in love with London again. a weekend in Paris, walks in Hyde Park, weekend trips to The Cotswolds and The Lake District and Bath; Brunching with friends and spending time with my sisters that made the distance feel so much further than ever.
Five days after 2019 and the homesickness has subsided – enough for me to write about it with a clear head and the knowledge that this too will pass, but when I enter my fourth year away from home, I long for a time I am surrounded by family more than ever.
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