For over twenty years I lived in Washington State. I worked at the same job that entire time, sat in the same chair at the same desk, drove the same way to work every day, stopped at the same coffee shop on the way in and the same grocery store on the way home. I spent my weekends the same way, vacationed in the same place every year. You could say I was in a rut. It was a comfortable, peaceful rut, and I was quite content with it.
When I reached my forties people stopped asking me, “When are you going to get married?” and became tactfully silent on the subject.
I stopped dreaming of marriage and children and settled for being a fun auntie to my siblings’ children. I told myself it’s better to be happily single than unhappily married. I told myself I had grown too old and settled in my ways to ever be able to fit a man into my ordered existence. Husbands require a great deal of maintenance and I no longer felt I had the energy or the inclination to adapt to married life.
I did a pretty good job of convincing myself that a solo life was greatly to be desired.
Then it happened. I fell in love. Not only did I fall in love, but I had to go and fall in love with a man who lived thousands of miles away and in a different country. For someone who liked her life kept on a smooth, even keel, I certainly knew how to rock the boat when it came to the great romance of my life.
For love I gave up order and predictability; I gave up the sameness which had grown so comfortable and familiar. For love I uprooted myself and moved from a medium-sized city in Washington State with a Starbucks drive-up on nearly every corner to a small village in Wiltshire with sheep and cows grazing in green fields at nearly every corner.
This blog began as a way to remain connected with my family and friends “back home” in the United States, and it has grown into a place where I can explore the many surprises which life can have in store for us at any age. Here I share some of the funny experiences I have had learning the ins and outs of British life, and examine the differences and similarities between life in the United States and life in the United Kingdom.
Change can be a wonderful thing. For over twenty years the thought of change terrified me. I ran from it. Now, having embraced so many changes in such a short span of time, I have found that it no longer holds the terrors it once did. That has been the most surprising thing I have learned: change is not always a bad thing.
This blog would not exist were it not for the steadfast support and encouragement of my husband. His love is what gave me the courage to change, and for that I will be forever grateful.