Finding my feet

The memory of when I got home back in Nov of 2016, of feeling unbearably sad the first days, comes back to me clear as glass. I remember tearing up in my sis' car on the way home from the airport. It was really sweet of my sister and mum to come so early to the airport to pick me up. But I was still reeling from leaving the life (not to mention the friends) I knew for the past 8 years behind in Europe.

Little did I know that I would be back in Europe so soon (after only a year back home in Singapore). I wasn't planning or looking to come back, as most of my friends (& family) had thought. It was not easy to move again actually. My routine had been slowly re-established (weekdays = work, gym, home), made some new friends, joined a good cell, found a church to attend and have a good team to row with. I was finally feeling settled. *Sigh of contentment*

As my last contract with Bayer in Singapore was coming to an end, an unexpected job offer (a 2-year contract), in Berlin, landed on my lap. The position sounded interesting and with the thought that I could possibly develop my career with this foot-in-the-door opportunity, I decided to take it. Little did I know that it would end, as unanticipatedly as it came, after a mere 6 months. I know losing a job is nothing very major in life, but it has never happened to me before, and at that time, it felt like having the rug pulled from under my feet, jobless and alone in a foreign country. I wanted to crawl into the ground with shame, my already non-existent self-confidence took a Whac-A-Mole beating but unlike in the game, it staunchly refused to peek its head up again, for a good long while.

Since I had already planned for my summer holidays in Italy while attending the wedding of 2 good friends back in Genova, I took the chance to extend the holidays. Also made a trip to the UK and caught up with an old friend. My initial instinct was to go home after the holiday but because of a series of unforseen occurrences (that would be another story if I ever get to it), I started to apply for jobs in Europe. Then as 'luck' would have it, my housemate informed me that I needed to move out of our apartment by Nov because she is giving up the apartment. Thank God for my Brazilian good friends in Berlin who offered to take me in in their living room while I continued my job search.

Several phone interviews, countless rejection emails and many no-news later, I started to wonder if I would ever find a job again. The almost 6-month job search period felt like an eternity. I am not used to sitting at home. My motivation went through periods of ups and downs where some days I would go out for an early morning run then sit myself down and send out applications all-day, other days I would mope around, wishing I was back home, in safety with family. It felt like one of the hardest periods of my adult life, even if I know it doesn't sound like much looking back now.

Just before Christmas, I got my first (and only) job offer. It was for a business development job in a small CRO (contract research organisation) in Milan, Italy. The job sounds interesting and so does the company. But it felt like God was playing a joke on me. When I left Genova at the end of 2016, I told myself ('vowed' seem too strong a verb) that I would not come back back to live in Italy ever again. Italy is great for holidays, definitely. And to be sure, there was always a reason (the beautiful coast, friends' weddings) for me to come back every summer after I left. But it was (and still is, if possible, even worse now) a bureaucratic nightmare when one lives here.

I dragged my feet to the flight from Singapore back to Europe. I did not want to leave the comfort of home to the uncertainties: how the new company, boss, job, city will be like, what if they don't like me and I lose the job again?

Now here I am, almost stably back on my feet, looking back and writing this (post) after almost 6 months on the job and in this new city. I am grateful for the many blessings here: a new job I enjoy and where I am learning new things, my caring and competent boss, friendly colleagues, the familial environment of the new company, an apartment which is a 7-min walk from office, 10-min walk from the biggest park in Milan, a kind housemate I get along with.

Even though most weekends here still feel very lonely and I still miss my friends back in Berlin, I cannot and should not complain about my life here. I pray for guidance and the patience to follow through whatever this phase of my life has for me, even as my heart yearns for someone to share my life with, for home, I know I have people who care for me and I am thankful for them.

A good friend has advised me to consider journalling as a way to work through my thoughts and feelings and I think I should start to write more regularly again. It's cathartic. :)