Riding The Emotional Rollercoaster

About 3 months left till the big move and I can’t quite describe how I feel. I suppose it depends on the day, but often I feel these strong waves of emotion all within the same moment.

I feel like it can’t come soon enough. Just get me to Tunisia and let me start my new life. I don’t care if I leave every possession behind. I’m ready to move on. I’m tired of waiting. I see pictures of our new house and I can’t wait to step inside. I talk to my future co-workers and I can’t wait to meet them in person. I dream about all the amazing trips we will go on.

At the same time, I feel heartbroken over the life I’m leaving behind. I love my friends and family and I can’t believe I’m choosing to move so far away from them. I am well aware that it will change the dynamics of my relationships. My children will see their grandparents less. The people I feel closest to will no longer be a quick drive and a hug away. I’m willingly letting go of a rock-solid support system.

I’ve been looking forward to this summer. I want it to be special. I want to prioritize relationships and spend time doing what’s important. Now that I feel that clock ticking, it’s easier not to take things for granted. I made a “Last Summer in Kansas Bucket List.” (Unfortunately, due to Covid-19, I may not be able to mark everything off my list, but I’ll try.) But here’s the thing. I could make every day count. I could spend every waking moment, living life to the fullest, eating Kansas City barbeque and laughing with friends and visiting my favorite places and planning outings and parties, but it will never be enough. I keep telling Justin I need this summer for closure, but I don’t think I’ll ever really get closure. It’s this unattainable idea in my head.

Of course the Corona Virus Pandemic has thrown a wrench in things, especially when it comes to the elusive “closure” I’m seeking. After Spring Break, I never went back to teaching in my classroom. It was sudden and unexpected. I have spent a decade in that building and without any goodbyes, it’s over. I don’t get the last field day, the last day of school with kids, the last work day with my teammates. It just feels anticlimactic. The summer may be very similar. I had envisioned going-away parties and making sure I see all of my extended family and coffee dates with old friends. Those plans may not be realistic in this climate. In some ways, it’s easier that way. Goodbyes are hard.

How can I feel so sad and so happy at the same time? I’ve had those bittersweet moments before. Everyone has come to those crossroads in life; those moments when you know everything is changing- graduations, new jobs, marriage. You have to leave something behind in order to move forward. It’s just part of life, and that growth is necessary in order to become the best version of yourself.

I know I’ve reached a point here where I am stagnant; in a rut. I have been for a while, even if it took me a long time to recognize it. It’s no longer an option for me to stay in Eudora, Kansas, in the same house, in the same job, doing the same things day after day. Trust me. I’ve tried. I know deep down that this adventure will be positive, even if it’s hard.

No matter how I may feel now or in August, the wheels have already been set in motion. Our house has been sold. Our possessions are slowly being sold off. My resignation letter was turned in months ago and the contract with our new school was signed. Besides the people I love, there’s not much left for me here. Moving forward is the only option. My life is going to change, and that’s a good thing. My hope is that this move will bring my husband and I closer. My children’s worldview will expand and their adaptability and tolerance towards others will increase. I really feel like this opportunity will push us to become better people, and that is a change worth making.