We sat with the warm Montreal breeze on our skin and a cold beer in our hands and I couldn't help but contemplate how it would feel to be even farther away from home with only him by my side. The notion of living somewhere else entirely has been terrifying me for the past few months since I found out that it would be happening and while it is ultimately my choice, I still feel somewhat out of control whenever I think about it. Half of my mind, the half that was raised to be extremely cautious and repetitive, is fuming at the prospect of making a life change as big as this one. The other half, the half still waiting for me to truly “grow up”, is on the edge of her seat, anxiously shaking her leg at the prolonged, yet definite direction my life is taking in less than three months from now.
I won’t be all alone, but it’ll feel like that in the beginning – that much I expect. But everything else seems so intangible that it might as well just be a fever dream that’s beginning to merge with my reality and leave me questioning who I am and what this confusion says about who I’ll turn into once I’m overseas and out of my comfort zone. Will I revert to my old ways with only a change of scenery as evidence of a new chapter in my life? Or will the person I am now, strolling inconsequentially between city skyscrapers with the view of my past dictating my future, be completely replaced by someone else? And will that new person be someone I like or will I have to suffer through the sudden realization months down the line that I’ve changed in a way that doesn’t reflect who I always wanted to be?
I like to think that all change is good, even if it’s bad, but can never truly immerse myself in that way of thinking because of how consumed I’ve always been by the fear of metamorphosis. It’s always been expressed to me as a grotesque malformation of who I’m supposed to be, encouraged by those trying to corrupt me. And it’s taken a lot of time and therapy sessions to recognize that maybe the world isn’t out to get me and whatever happens, whoever I become, just is. Taking this weekend trip to Montreal – albeit short – was a great way to show me that adaptation isn’t necessarily distortion when it comes to who I become when faced with a new location and different situations. I can only hope that this recognition will stick with me when I up and move myself with all my belongings to a new country with only my partner has guidance and myself as the most important form of support.