Kiki's Spain Writings: ‘Honestly? This week I could only cry’

The unheimlich feeling creeps over me for the first time this week. ‘San, is everything going to be okay?’ He looks at me with a pitying glance. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, just. With the house and everything. And the money. I mean: we have given up everything. Really everything! What if we run out of money and can't find a house?’

We're in the car and by the way my lower lip starts to quiver, I can feel that I can't hold it together any longer. I burst into tears, followed by a particularly squeaky sound. What a mess this all is. Who the hell emigrates so poorly prepared?

Something in me knows damn well that I only ask these kinds of questions in the week before my period, but still, these kinds of issues feel REAL and life-threatening at such a moment. Thank god for the male stability. ‘It will be fine, Kiek. Really. Of course, we will find a house.’

With one hand, he drives the car and places the other hand on mine. ‘We've only been here for ten weeks, sweetheart. Ten. Building something takes time. And we have all the time, right?’ My soulmate is a man of few words, but the words he speaks are spot on.

The thing is: I understand him and his stable mindset, but at the same time, I understand myself too. I've read that people have three important pillars in their lives to measure their sense of security: 1. Your base (this includes your partner and possibly your family), 2. the house (the safe retreat for privacy), and 3. the work and simply: the money. The income. If one of the three suddenly comes under fire, there is already stress. A second unstable factor equals panic, and all three not in order means total insecurity and depression.

At this moment, only pillar 1 stands in our lives like a dike: the relationship. The house and the income are still heavily under construction. So it's not surprising that some days I feel completely alienated and unsafe; two-thirds of our triangle is still not right.

Thank god I can recently split myself schizophrenically in two between my Emotional Self and True Self. Or better said: I can be Mufasa and Simba at the same time. Read: my Inner Emotionally Unstable Simba can only roar as if the bloodthirsty hyenas are coming to get her soon, and at the same time, I can rise above the situation and witness with a Mufasa wisdom how the crying Kiek creates noise on the line by throwing everything into one hormonal heap. That she has left her comfort zone and is learning exactly what is totally part of the process. She got this. I GOT THIS.

Emigrating is something you can learn, they say. And yet, it's all so damn personal. In broad strokes, you can probably share your story and find similarities with other seekers of happiness, but ultimately it's a process that unfolds differently for everyone. You learn a lot of new things about yourself in that process and cultivate strengths you thought you didn't even need. A hefty dose of endurance, for example. Flexibility. Resilience. Trust. Patience.

Man, what beautiful life lessons actually. They don't sell those in stores, do they?

PS. Want to peek into our process? Follow me on @kikiduren for more Spanish adventure tales.
PPS. Tips for houses in the Costa Blanca-North region are also very welcome!
PPPS. Next week less hormonal. Promised. Greetings from Simba.

Credits: Atelier Mabel