4 Americans Abroad - 3 Years in England

This weekend is our third anniversary - our third anniversary of moving to England. It's difficult to believe that we've lived life here for 36 months already, especially when our four year tour seemed eternity that first day in the car on the A14.

If I could encourage that grumpy, anxious, pregnant Susie of three years ago, here's what I'd say.

 

Dear Susie of October 2017,

 First of all - go get something to eat. I recommend a sandwich from Tesco. Stop staring at the road; it's freaking you out, and no, the car you're NOT driving won't crash just because you're not staring in terror at the road ahead. 

Now, take in the scenery around you. Isn't it gorgeous? It will never not be gorgeous to you. You will always want to capture images of rolling green English hills and share them with the world. The first time you see a stone bridge and sheep, you will quite literally squeal. 

Back to driving - that car you're about to rent from Steve's? There's legitimately something wrong with that car. It's not supposed to convulse when you brake and accelerate. But you should still practice driving. Don't curl up in a tight ball of pregnant anxiety, afraid to leave your house. For the record, there IS a playground. It's behind a car park, behind a fence, across the street from the shop. But it's there! You need to ask someone for directions to it. England is an ask your neighbor country.

Go explore, like you did those first days in Oundle. Don't worry - Brits are less territorial about walking paths than you're used to and they also don't shoot. They're also only suspicious of men in large vans. Yes, that's a thing. No, I still don't know why.

Someone will ask you one day, "What was the most surprising difficulty of this move?" and you'll know the answer.  

It was that you had a house, but not a home. A home country, a country of residence, but no place that you fit. A dream of traveling Europe, and a reality that the darkness of English winter and prenatal anxiety has you afraid of going to the grocery store. You will feel like a failure for not traveling as much as you thought you, and when you do travel, for not doing it the way some think they would.

 

However, that anxiety will pass. (And then Covid-19 will happen, but lets not talk about that.)

Your brash American accent, which makes you afraid to open your mouth, will feel less noticeable to you over time. You'll only really remember it when you need to talk loudly through a mask. (Again, we won't talk about masks.) You'll grow to love British accents once again, only noticing them when you're already annoyed by something.

Oh, that first trip to the Huntingdon town centre? Bring coins. Better yet, always bring coins. You might not be able to find parking if you don't. 

Yes, parking is seemingly always paid, and pre booking is essential. These things will drive your wild heart mad at first, but eventually you'll stop being inconvenienced by them and just do them. 

Go to Waitrose. Go to Aldi. Go to Tesco again. Find the best pre-made meals, the cheapest groceries, and the most delicious produce. The commissary is great for, well, junk food. 

 

Also? British chocolate is better than American chocolate and Swiss chocolate is better than British, but Belgian is your favorite. You'll still eat American chocolate sometimes because nostalgia is a powerful drug. I know you're hungry again, pregnant one, and bemoaning the lack of American food that your cravings need. You will eventually cease mourning Mexican food, Chipotle, and In N Out. But you should go to Cambridge sooner than you will. Eat at the market;your happiest Euro-living dreams will come true. And then go to London, where the sights and sounds of a dozen cultures blend together; you will certainly find your cravings there. You will eventually decide that Lincolnshire sausages are delicious--although it will take some time--and definitely try the savory pie. Landon will be obsessed with British food thanks to school, but forewarning, you'll have to bring spices back to his palate. 

Every place you go will seem more beautiful than the last; and you'll never be fully convinced you're not living in a storybook. The exception to that is Brussels, which you find boring and ugly. Brugge, however, will radically make up for it in beauty. You'll love your Belgium trip for the food and the people there, though. 

Back to that first fall and early winter. Christmas is coming and you're in the best place for Christmas! Book castle tours, find a Christmas market or two, attend every town light switch on. Go ahead and go to Hyde Park during the Christmas season; you will eventually run out of time. The Christmas season is different over here, but you'll quickly decide that its better. More magic, more community revelry, more intention.

Also girl, go buy boots and a coat and a few sweaters. You're freezing and you will be until mid-April, when you suddenly get a sunburn. 

I know you're lonely and convinced you'll never have friends again, but fear not, you will. You will have American friends who cycle in and out of your life through various PCS seasons, and British friends who you gossip with on the school run and remain your constant for years. You should go talk to them now. They want to be your friend. Really and truly.

You will never really figure out roundabouts, making your way through them just by instinct and prayers, and sometimes driving in a circle a few too many times. 

You'll never stop hating the seven hour time zone distance from people you love, but you will grow accustomed to it. Life on a different continent will become the norm and your children will barely remember differently. The guilt will pass, mostly. The exhaustion and expense of trans-atlantic travel won't, however, and you will name that as the biggest inconvenience of this life. 

 

And while you're about to tell Stephen that this was a terrible idea, you don't want to be here, and you want to go home--although who knows where home is--you'll grow to love this place and find your moorings. Never roots, but moorings. And when asked if you'd do it again, you'll give a hearty YES, and then try to convince Stephen to do another overseas tour in a few years. 

 

You'll fall in love with learning to be the outsider, being the minority, being different. You'll miss the ease of your home country, but adore the aged magic of life here. You'll discover that people are people, and human friendship forms based on commonality and experiences. You'll never, ever want to go back to life without a passport, even as your heart aches as too much times passes that your children haven't seen their grandparents. You will also miss family moments that you never dreamed you miss--including two sibling weddings. It will break your heart and cause you to doubt your love of adventuring. 

 

Susie of 2017,

You will love this place. It will become warm, familiar, and inviting. Your heart will break to leave it, and you will never again feel completely at home in the US. You have been changed.

Much love, 

Susie of  2020

P.S., Lockdown is awful and your Stateside friends will never understand the restrictions. But don't worry about that now.