Reflection, Naked

So there's this one scene in Forrest Gump, where Jennie is performing nude onstage with a guitar, and Forrest (bless him) just doesn't get it, not at all, and he narrates:  "She had realized her dream."

Or something.  I don't remember the exact quote, and that's not the point.  The point is that "realizing" your dream pretty much never looks the way it's supposed to.  A lot of the time, you feel as if you are naked up on a fucking stage, singing and playing for a bunch of catcallers and jeerers.

Anyone who lives abroad and says they have never missed home, that they've never faced a difficult situation that could be so fucking simple if only they could speak the language, and they don't acknowledge how frustrating this simple interaction is -- this person is lying.

Anyone who has volunteered for two or four weeks in a country and claims to have actually "lived" there, they're lying too.  Hate to tell you, but your extended vaycay really gave you zero perspective on what it's like to actually be wherever it was you were visiting.  Unless you've ever worried about filing a tax return on wherever it is you've been, just please stop posing and just call yourself a tourist.  There's nothing wrong with being a tourist.  I've been one in many countries, and have had a wonderful time.  Own it.

Living abroad, truly living there, even in a modern, efficient, first-world country where I can get sushi and organic body wash and decent Caipirinhas, is not always a walk in the park.  It seems like every time I turn around there is another financial surprise.  Germany has given me a beating so far, and it's not going to stop anytime soon.  They love rules like I have never even freaking heard of, and it all plays into this magnificent system that leaves me hemorrhaging out all available orifices.  It's not exactly comforting , and to be honest I sometimes can't see myself hanging on here for the long haul.  It hasn't been exactly what I'd been told to expect.  And while I'm (slowly, eventually) learning that nothing ever is, especially when living and working abroad, there also comes a time when you have to ask yourself if you can realistically see this working with a sustainable, long-term future.  I'm still... on the fence about that one.

But while I am here, it is important to remember why.  Because it is so easy to forget.  To acclimatize.  To get used to it.

To lose sight of the truth of it all.  To get lost in the little shit, the bureaucracy.  Paperwork.  Navigating half-truths, cultural missteps, and the occasional control game -- all in a day's work.  It hasn't been easy.  And every time I think I've got a grip on it -- that okay, I've come to terms with whatever the latest sucker punch happened to deliver, it's time for something new to make life interesting all over again.

But right now, I'm still in Germany.  I'm here.  In Germany.  You do understand what this means -- I have realized my dream.  Maybe not exactly as I thought it would look, but all the same.

That's huge.

It's hard to re-imagine myself now as the woman I was sitting outside my Old Town Alexandria studio in 2010, looking out over the Potomac River and utterly unhappy, writing in my journal -- "I would leave this life if I could".

That was a watershed moment. That was the moment I truly admitted that I wanted change, a true, scary, and irrevocable change.  That I thought it would actually be worth it, to leave everything behind -- the people I loved and the life full of stuff that I had built.

At the time of writing, I honestly did not truly think such a thing was possible.  I thought I was trapped, fixed, into that life that I had chosen.  I didn't see a realistic way out.  But I wanted it to be true.

I wanted it so much that I made it happen.

Now, three years and nine new countries later, here I am.  Jaded and irritated, wishing for Mexican food and a gym that didn't feature naked German exhibitionist ladies in the locker room.  But I'm wishing for these things in Germany.

I'm grateful for that.

I have to remember that I made this happen.  That I worked for it.  That this was what I wanted.  And now, three years and a whole lot of learning later, it still is.

There's not much in my life that I can be proud of, really.  But I can be proud of this.

Dreams aren't pretty.  They often don't happen the way we hope they will.  But sometimes they come true.

This is me, naked onstage with my guitar.

And I'm ready for the next gig.