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I’m leaving… or not?

Sometimes you think that leaving will bring freedom. That another country, another horizon, will make life lighter.

In this text, I explore why that thought once attracted me, and why I choose to stay today. A reflection on escapism and emigration. (Part 2 in the escapism series)

For the entire escape playlist: see below

The thought of leaving

Somewhere, deep down, we’ve all thought about leaving. Not for a holiday, but really emigrating. For good. Away from the life you know, from routines, obligations and familiar faces.

For me, that thought fits within what I call escapism: the desire to escape from what doesn’t feel right, sometimes temporarily, in this case radically. This piece is a personal reflection on that desire, and on the question of whether a permanent leap into the unknown really brings what you hope for.

When everything still seemed possible

When my husband and I were young, we sometimes lured to America. The world was open, possibilities seemed unlimited and emigrating felt – to us at least – more like adventure than escape. There was something magical about it. We had experienced America while traveling. Little did we know that travel experiences do not represent real life. But we didn’t see that until much later in broadcasts such as ‘Ik vertrek’.

When proximity became more important

With the arrival of the children, that dream changed. Suddenly, it was no longer just about what we wanted, but also about responsibility, care and connectedness. Where do you go when a child is sick? Who stands next to you when life doesn’t cooperate? Parents and family, who fortunately usually live nearby, took on a different meaning. Proximity no longer became a detail, but a foundation in our life.

What you see when others leave

At that time, programs such as Ik Vertrek did not yet exist. Today they show, sometimes painfully honestly, what can happen when people leave without sufficient preparation. Not to judge, but to make visible that dreams and reality do not always coincide. I think it’s good that such programs exist.

You see how children have to leave their friends behind and start from scratch at school, how work turns out to be harder than expected, how bureaucracy and cultural differences slowly suck away energy.

And how loneliness presents itself at times when no one expects it. Video calling helps, but it never replaces the obvious contact, just popping in, the intimate conversations.

You always take yourself with you

I also recognize these doubts outside television programs. On Reddit I read stories of expats who wonder if moving really brings what they hoped for. What strikes me is how clear their insights often are.

Their conclusions are remarkably unanimous: problems do not disappear by moving, they simply change form. After all, you take yourself with you, with everything that goes with it. And on top of that, you get new challenges, new responsibilities, missing out on things. Emigrating is not a pause button, but a different décor in which the same inner self presents itself again.

The quiet weekends

I have seen many expats come and go in my life. They worked here temporarily, lived comfortably and often formed their own circle. Integration was rarely a priority. During the week, work and obligations filled their days, but in the evenings and weekends they were surrounded by silence.

A walk, a restaurant visit: these are simple things, but alone they feel different. Freedom sounds very attractive, until you notice that you have no one to share it with.

My husband used to have to go away for work a lot. Abroad he learned to do everything on his own, and to fill in his evenings and weekends on his own. One thing he could never get used to is eating alone at a restaurant.

I’m not surprised that none of the expats I knew stayed here; almost all of them were relieved when their period was over and they were able to return.

When a dream becomes work

I have also seen entrepreneurship abroad collide with reality up close. I think of the couple of Belgian bakers we met while passing through America. They made their delicious bread as we know it here, prepared with love and craftsmanship, but it didn’t catch on. The American consumer stubbornly continued to buy his white, tasteless cotton wool bread in the supermarket. Even their birthday cakes were hardly ordered.

What started as a dream became a daily struggle for survival. Not much later they gave up. It made me realize how thin the line is between adventure and exhaustion.

What you let others wear

With children and teenagers, emigrating becomes even more complex. You not only move the people, but also a full social life. Small children cannot go back, teenagers can, and that happens more often than people admit. Only then they sometimes end up in a strange in-between area, in which they no longer really settle in their homeland either.

We like to say that children adapt quickly, but honestly, it remains a selfish decision to impose such a radical change on them. As if studying and becoming an adult are not challenging enough in themselves.

Is there a place among the stars where I can go?

Leave… or not? If you ask if I would leave permanently today, my answer is a resounding no. Not anymore. I don’t like the idea of having to say goodbye to family, children and grandchildren, friends and neighbors for that last part of my life, and to start from scratch somewhere. I’m in my sixties, and you don’t transplant an old tree that easily.

But should I be young, and without children? Yes, then I might think about it. Especially now, in the current circumstances. But where else can you go? There is something going on everywhere. If it is not overpopulation, then it is heavy tax burden or unemployment. Not to mention drug nuisance and the threat of war.

When we were young, we didn’t think about the consequences. Now we do. Some dreams are beautiful, but not for every stage of life.

Maybe staying is the adventure

Perhaps this text is not about leaving in the end, but about staying. About the realization that another place does not automatically give you the happiness you are looking for. In other words: that escapism and emigration are understandable, but not always the solution.

Sometimes the greatest adventure is not to leave, but to stay where you are. And from there see what is still possible, close to the people you love. Or do exactly what Wilson Phillips sings in: ‘Hold on for one more day’.

Emma

My personal escape playlist

My escape playlist for the road:

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