I was engaged to a German. Not many people know that. I had the ring, the dress, invitations were out, guests bought their flights…and just like that it was over.
A decade ago. And while I was too scared at the time to even consider moving to a different country, I don’t think it was sheer coincidence that I found myself in love with a foreigner.
Cultured. Well-traveled. Exotic. Captivating. He was everything I wanted to be.
…I could do this. I could live in another country permanently. But more importantly, I want to. This is the first thing I can say about myself without question on my journey to self-discovery.
Emery Allen said, “I think I fall in love a little bit with anyone who shows me their soul. This world is so guarded and fearful. I appreciate rawness so much.” And that is what I find with expats (for the most part). They are inclusive, authentic, adventurous, and completely open with their stories (again, for the most part).
Or maybe it is that they have interesting stories that I find so appealing. I’ve never met anyone who had a so-so tale about how they picked up and moved around the world from everything they know.
So maybe that is the root of all of this. I want to be interesting. I want a story to tell.
A man I met from Holland tonight explained it best. If you put a frog in water, he stays there. If you keep heating the water gradually, the frog still stays because he is comfortable…until he is boiled alive and then eaten.
My biggest fear is to die without truly living. And for me, to live, I need to see as much of the world as possible.