Start Somewhere

I think we need to talk.

Last week I put up one post to Flat Eleven. Only one.

Sometimes the days are more inspiring than others.

I said a few weeks ago how I wanted to start getting back to what I love, writing and photography. Except the thing is, it’s taking me a little bit longer to get back into it. After that post went live, I’ve been absolutely bogged down with visa paperwork in preparation for our move…which as a matter of fact I should maybe mention that I GOT MY VISA.

My return to the United Kingdom is imminent!!

Maybe it’s excusable to say, I was wrapped up in a whirlwind of emotions with leaving so I neglected my writing, my photos. But eventually, you’ve got to start somewhere…

I’ve had a lot on my mind, I knew this move was coming, I knew it. Within 4-6 weeks of time, we knew when the paperwork would come through. That didn’t stop it from hitting me like a ton of bricks.

You see, we’ve been living back at home in America (well, home for me). Some may think it’s ludicrous to live with your family after your wedding. I get that. Once you’re married you want to find a place (if you don’t already have one) and start your life together. Well, we’re a bit different. We thought, why waste our time moving somewhere in the states, if we knew we’d be leaving to move to London after a few months. It was silly. Our idea was financially responsible and you know what? It’s been wonderful to be home.

When I was 18, I moved three and half hours away to go to university. It was an easy enough drive back on the weekends, but for four years I was primarily away. Phone calls were easy though, we were all on the same time zone. Trips back and forth could be planned last minute without a problem. Then when I graduated, I swiftly moved to NYC to live with J for a few months, until he was offered a professional contract playing football back in the UK. Hurriedly, I started applying to graduate programs across the pond. I had planned to continue my education, and this was the jumpstart that I needed.

So I applied was accepted, and we moved to Scotland and started somewhere new. Phone calls became more coordinated due to the time difference and last minute trips were always going to be out of the question. But nonetheless, I studied for my degree while J played footy. And we spent a little over a year in our new home, Flat Eleven. We got engaged, I graduated, J got offered his dream job and then we moved down to England, a bit south of London.

We’ve been busy.

Luckily we had time before my visa expired, so I spent time applying to internships, exploring London, and spending time with J’s family. We lived with them at the time. If you ever find yourself in such a unique situation like ours, I hope you have a full support system in your family. Both sides have been more than supportive, letting us stay at home while we applied to our necessary paperwork for the next step in our lives.

I left the United Kingdom in January and moved back to the US. Without a visa, I could no longer stay. You can’t work without one. I needed to come home to work… and plan a wedding.

J visited at the end of February and I flew back with him in March for a few weeks. We didn’t think we’d end up having that time to be together with the paperwork processing, so we were grateful. Cue the interview with the US embassy in London, where we had to validate to the government that we’re the real deal (ever see The Proposal with Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock…?) It’s absolutely painful marrying someone who isn’t from your country… I don’t understand how people do it simply for visas and not for true love. I would never go through this for someone who I barely knew!

Eventually, J came over to the states a few weeks before the wedding. We had to wait on paperwork so that he could enter the country on what they call a Fiancé Visa. Once he landed in the US, we had 90 days to get married and submit paperwork proving it. So we were married in June, submitted our forms and went on our honeymoon.

And when we returned, we knew we’d be stateside for a few months. It meant plenty of time to relax and spend time with family and friends. This period of time since January has truly been the first time I’ve really lived at home in years. Out of the dormitories, out of apartments, flats. I’ve been able to spend quality time with my parents, my brother and with my relatives and friends at home. Time unrushed and unhurried by an imminent return to wherever I had to leave to. For once, I didn’t have to leave.

But like everything in life, change happens. It’s unrelenting and doesn’t stop to consider if you’re ready for it.

So getting my passport back in the mail with my new visa holds mixed emotions for me. I can’t wait to finally get my life started. I’ve been in a waiting period for nearly a year. I’ll be able to apply for and hopefully secure a full-time position in London. Fingers crossed it’s a job that I’ll thrive at and love. J and I will be able to find a nice hole in the wall flat in London to call our home for the next few years, a place that will be all ours.

But on the other hand, I’m leaving home again.

It’s like a flashback to when I was 18. Excited for the newness, the unknown, but sad to leave my home and my family. My emotions have been all over the board.

With that mail delivery, it brought about the familiar rushed and hurried time with family and friends. Making plans to make sure we see everyone before we leave again. Making sure we get everything set in place to go. Visiting our favorite haunts and eateries. Picking up any last minute goods to take abroad (usually this means all the makeup I can’t get in the UK) and whatever foods/snacks I can try and weasel into my carryon.

With that mail delivery… it has me beyond excited to start our future.

But with that mail delivery… it has also broken off a little piece of my heart again.

You’ve got to start somewhere. Life changes can be such a catch-22. I’ve been raving about getting my visa all summer. I love the United Kingdom, I especially love London. Moving to London with my husband is a dream come true.

But I think the little kid in you is always a little sad leaving the comforts of home. It doesn’t get any easier as you get older, in fact, it becomes more difficult. Goodbyes are teary, filled with big hugs and kisses. You can usually find me bawling through the airport security line, mascara running down my face, getting odd glances from fellow travelers. Even when you’re leaving for the most exciting time of your life, it will always hurt a little bit leaving.

The good thing is… you always have a place to return. A place to call home.

I’m lucky enough to have a couple of places that I think of as home.

And now, London will be one of them.

After all, you’ve got to start somewhere.

xoxo Kelly