ANGELICA G WRITES

It’s been over two years since I wrote a blog post. Basically ever since returning from living in Portugal, I’ve not written anything here. There are a number of reasons for that. Mainly, it has been an emotional roller coaster adjusting back to life in the place you’re originally from. Most who have lived abroad and then returned to their home country would probably agree. Without sounding too dramatic, it’s been one of the most heartbreaking adjustments of my life. The hardest part about it has been the difficulty of letting go of such an incredible experience. For me living abroad felt like living in a dream that I never had to wake up from. Ever since returning, I’ve felt like I’ve been trying to go back to that dream. If you’ve ever had a dream you’ll know that no matter how wonderful the dream was, once you wake up, you can’t really go back. You could spend a whole lot of time trying, but you won’t succeed.

In August 2021 I returned from Portugal to Australia. In terms of a physical and secure home, Australia is mine. My parents live here, my brother and sister live here, and I’m a citizen of this country. My parents immigrated here to give us a better life compared to what they had. I did my schooling here and I spent most of my working life here. I didn’t come back because I missed home, I came back because after two years of living abroad, most of which was during COVID, I was exhausted. I came back because Australia’s border closures kept getting stricter and the COVID situation more and more uncertain and terrifying as time passed. I was scared about not knowing when I’d see my family again, and I was scared about running out of money as a foreigner without a permanent visa and without a stable income in Portugal. My partner who is Portuguese had to stay because of the border closures, so I came back on my own. I came back out of necessity, as opposed to desire. It feels selfish to say that, because I know there are plenty of people who would love to call Australia home. I suppose it’s easy to justify that we should always be grateful for what we have because there will always be someone who has less in some way.

Coming back to Australia was exciting at first, however after the most interesting stories had been told, and the tight hugs that came out of nowhere from family became less frequent, normal living returned and the excitement subsided fast. I started a new job and my partner and I started working on his visa so he could join me in Australia. The following year was completely focused on mission reunite, and so the days went by fast as we counted down the days of our reunion. When you have a mission like that, it’s so easy to just rush through each day just waiting for the next, and the next, and the next. That whole year seems like a blur of ticking boxes on a to do list and waiting ever so impatiently for something you really want to happen. And when that thing happens, suddenly you’re not quite sure what to do next.

After we reunited and began settling into this new life together in Australia, I found myself nostalgic for the past life in Portugal like I’d never been before. Suddenly, every commute to work felt like a comparison game to my commute to work I had back in Portugal. I constantly compared every aspect of life in Portugal to that of life in Australia. Most of the time I felt annoyed with everything about life in Australia, from how people shop at the grocery stores here to how early they wake up for Sunday brunch. It was like being in a constant state of dissatisfaction. I couldn’t stop comparing and I couldn’t stop feeling sad and somewhat regretful that I had given up a life in a place I loved so much. A place where my being felt so at home and so at peace, which was rare for me as an immigrant child. Sometimes you really don’t know how good you had something until you no longer have it.

My thoughts constantly revolved around the memories and envisioning a future where I could return to Portugal and return to that dream I once lived. It was bittersweet and it was exhausting living everywhere besides here. Always living in the future like that really wears one out in the end. And so now, after a year of feeling drained by disgruntlement and an inability to live in the present, I’ve been trying to adopt the mantra that ‘this is exactly where I’m supposed to be’, and remind myself that I can’t give this life a real crack if I’m never actually living here in it.

So that’s my next mission I suppose, to attempt to live in the here and the now. To embrace this life that I’ve chosen to live for now, and to find the beauty in everything this wonderful country has to offer. Because it is beautiful. Yes, maybe I don’t feel as at home and as at peace here as I once did in Portugal, but that doesn’t mean I won’t ever feel that feeling again. And maybe if I let go of the tight grip I’m holding around the steering wheel, I’ll be able to feel some ease, some peace, some feelings of home here as well. I won’t lie, it’s so tempting to keep fantasizing about a different life in a different country, and it’s definitely how I escape when things are uncomfortable. But I don’t think fantasizing and dreaming is a bad thing at all, and I hope to continue having dreams and feeling excited about the possibilities of the life I can create for myself. I think to dream is a wonderful thing.

Who knows, maybe one day I’ll find myself living in Portugal again. But for now, I’m here. And i’m glad to be.

– Sunrise, by Louise Gluck