It's been a week. A week ago, ew left Singapore. Not just for a business trip, but permanently. It feels a little weird. I guess I know she's relocated, but in the back of my mind, it's almost like I expect her to come back soon. Like it is a business trip. I'm supposed to follow in the next month or so, but for now, I feel like I'm in limbo, not really in one place or the other.
This move is a good thing. At least that's what it's supposed to be. An opportunity to move back to the Bay Area, to move "home." But I just can't seem to wrap my head around it. I keep fighting it and fighting it, even though I know there is nothing left to fight. It's done. It's been done for over a month now, in progress for many more. There are moments now where the emotion explodes, where it becomes difficult to keep in the frustration, the anger, the tears. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've moved before, many times in fact. I've always prided myself on being adaptable and flexible. Is it just another quarter life crisis? How many of those can one have?
Maybe it's leaving Singapore. Have I really grown so fond of this place? Where after struggling and struggling and finally finding some footing here, I feel like it's all crumbling beneath me? Where ew and I have developed some relationships, settled in to our "usual" spots, and generally built something real, only to suddenly have to tear it down. But I'm not the sentimental type. I don't usually care about things like tradition or holidays. I don't get nostalgic about leaving things behind. I like looking ahead and seeing what is to come. I didn't care about leaving Christmas, sports, or friends behind when I came to Singapore. And it's not like I'm even in love with Singapore. Ew and I had been contemplating leaving for a while now. It's too small of a place. Small job market and neither of us saw a lot of potential in our current roles. Not a lot of culture. Still don't have great relationships here. I've always believed that home is wherever we want it to be, depending on our bonds of fellowship. And being in Singapore has only reinforced that feeling. I remember thinking earlier this year that I'm ready to go back to California and hang out with my closest friends. To continue growing up with these guys I've known for the past 10-15 years. To be closer to my family, particularly my dad in his current condition. That I was tired of being alone here, of not having anyone other than ew to randomly do things with. All of this rationalization went into the decision to make this move. To support ew and the decision to go back. It's all been processed.
Maybe it's the fact that I don't have a job in the Bay. Or that I haven't seen anything that gets me excited. Despite all my complaints about my role and company in Singapore, I do feel that I am working on something meaningful and interesting. I've had the privilege to spend a lot of time in a developing country, to interact with the bureaucracy and governance, and to be frustrated with it, dejected by it, but at the same time, invigorated by the prospect of actually achieving something. It's almost a reflection of my life abroad--the constant struggle to get somewhere solid, one step forward, two steps back, and maybe the illusion that I can rise to the challenge. I don't believe I will ever get such an immersive experience again in the near future. My colleagues and I always talk about how we can write books based on our time working on this project in India. Maybe the transition from this to a culture dominated by social media and opt-in apps leaves me a bit bitter.
Maybe it's just the fact that I'm a misfit. There's a New Yorker article that talks about how there are three types of people who live abroad: mercenaries, missionaries, and misfits. I'm definitely not the first two, and I didn't initially think I was a misfit, but what if I am? Unlike most American expats here, I seem to relate most closely with locals. I mean it took time and effort, and it wasn't really that natural by any means, but my palate is almost completely Asian at this point, I work only with locals at a local company, and my colleagues have now told me I speak more locally than before. And Americans just seem to be bother me now, with the arrogance and all-knowing attitudes. How do I fit in a place like San Francisco? For someone who doesn't even have Facebook, who is almost anti-technology, who is analog in a digital time. For someone who spent the past three years dealing with the Indian government on trying to build an infrastructure project, only to face a smug techster that claims he is doing more to change the world through the Internet. I know there are normal people there, but how do you avoid the rat race of new gadgets, skinny jeans, and $5 cups of fair trade organic coffee? It almost makes me feel like Frodo going back to the Shire. Has my world prism changed so much that I can't even go back to a place I called home for 7 years? Where things like second breakfast and elevensies lose the charm they once had? How do you go back?
Maybe I'm just scared. Scared of being back in a city I already know, of facing the thought of settling down. I guess in the back of my mind, I always knew that San Diego and Singapore would just be sojourns. San Diego was a stopping point to wait for ew to finish her PhD. So even though I was pretty much a townie during that time, it was just to be with her, and we would move on together. And similarly, Singapore was just another experience for ew and I to have, the abroad experience I always craved. Maybe in my mind, I was always open to an open-ended stay, but I knew ew always wanted to go back to the US at some point. Her agreement was really only for the length of her postdoc, 3 years. Singapore was never a place where we envisioned ourselves long-term, even if we were here an indefinite amount of time. And though we both became more open to staying longer than 3 years, it never really became the place to stay. But in the Bay, there is a sense of finality to it. I know that doesn't have to be the case, but there is no next plan. No postdoc to finish. Nothing pulling us to another place. We've talked about being open to other opportunities abroad, but we've also talked about settling down. And while I've faced this prospect in my career, this is the first time ew is facing it in hers. There's no milestone anymore. Her career is open-ended, with no real cutoff points for decisions on what to do next.
Maybe it's that last part that scares me the most. In my last diving trip, a guy said to me that he can't understand local Singaporeans who settle down in their 20s and then they inevitably cheat on each other in their 30s because they've changed so much. I think he was just giving an excuse for being single still, but it made me think that ew and I fit this mold. We've been together almost 10 years, and we both just turned 30. We have changed a lot from when we first got together. And maybe we are much different from when we first fell in love and maybe it is harder to get along sometimes. But then I think how we've changed together. We've gone through all these experiences together. And our love has changed in that way too. But maybe her career is the wildcard now. For the first time, I'm scared that we're growing separately. That her career will pull her in different directions, and that she will grow and change, apart from me. I think a part of me feels that way already with the way this move has come. And maybe in the future it continues down this path.
It feels hypocritical to feel this way, as I've always tried to encourage her to keep going, to keep pushing. But maybe I'm more wedded to tradition than I thought. Where I feel resentment for having to give up my career choices and dreams for hers. Where I feel the sacrifices are no longer done together, but by me. It's funny, because I've always joked around and told people that I would love to be a house husband. But I guess I've always wanted it on my terms. And maybe I've deceived myself into thinking that I was doing things on our terms. That my move to San Diego was for us, that the move to Singapore was for us. When in fact, maybe it was all for me and what I wanted out of my life, my career. And that ew was doing it for me, for us in that respect. That once it became inconvenient for me, I exploded and fought and fought.
We can't stop the world from changing and evolving; we can't stop us from changing and evolving. As much as we fight it and never want to let go, sometimes we have to. Ew and I are different from when we came to Singapore She does have a career now. I can either keep hoping things are the way I want it and watch us continue to grow separately, or I can try to do what ew did, and try to grow together.
This move is a good thing. At least that's what it's supposed to be. An opportunity to move back to the Bay Area, to move "home." But I just can't seem to wrap my head around it. I keep fighting it and fighting it, even though I know there is nothing left to fight. It's done. It's been done for over a month now, in progress for many more. There are moments now where the emotion explodes, where it becomes difficult to keep in the frustration, the anger, the tears. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've moved before, many times in fact. I've always prided myself on being adaptable and flexible. Is it just another quarter life crisis? How many of those can one have?
Maybe it's leaving Singapore. Have I really grown so fond of this place? Where after struggling and struggling and finally finding some footing here, I feel like it's all crumbling beneath me? Where ew and I have developed some relationships, settled in to our "usual" spots, and generally built something real, only to suddenly have to tear it down. But I'm not the sentimental type. I don't usually care about things like tradition or holidays. I don't get nostalgic about leaving things behind. I like looking ahead and seeing what is to come. I didn't care about leaving Christmas, sports, or friends behind when I came to Singapore. And it's not like I'm even in love with Singapore. Ew and I had been contemplating leaving for a while now. It's too small of a place. Small job market and neither of us saw a lot of potential in our current roles. Not a lot of culture. Still don't have great relationships here. I've always believed that home is wherever we want it to be, depending on our bonds of fellowship. And being in Singapore has only reinforced that feeling. I remember thinking earlier this year that I'm ready to go back to California and hang out with my closest friends. To continue growing up with these guys I've known for the past 10-15 years. To be closer to my family, particularly my dad in his current condition. That I was tired of being alone here, of not having anyone other than ew to randomly do things with. All of this rationalization went into the decision to make this move. To support ew and the decision to go back. It's all been processed.
Maybe it's the fact that I don't have a job in the Bay. Or that I haven't seen anything that gets me excited. Despite all my complaints about my role and company in Singapore, I do feel that I am working on something meaningful and interesting. I've had the privilege to spend a lot of time in a developing country, to interact with the bureaucracy and governance, and to be frustrated with it, dejected by it, but at the same time, invigorated by the prospect of actually achieving something. It's almost a reflection of my life abroad--the constant struggle to get somewhere solid, one step forward, two steps back, and maybe the illusion that I can rise to the challenge. I don't believe I will ever get such an immersive experience again in the near future. My colleagues and I always talk about how we can write books based on our time working on this project in India. Maybe the transition from this to a culture dominated by social media and opt-in apps leaves me a bit bitter.
Maybe it's just the fact that I'm a misfit. There's a New Yorker article that talks about how there are three types of people who live abroad: mercenaries, missionaries, and misfits. I'm definitely not the first two, and I didn't initially think I was a misfit, but what if I am? Unlike most American expats here, I seem to relate most closely with locals. I mean it took time and effort, and it wasn't really that natural by any means, but my palate is almost completely Asian at this point, I work only with locals at a local company, and my colleagues have now told me I speak more locally than before. And Americans just seem to be bother me now, with the arrogance and all-knowing attitudes. How do I fit in a place like San Francisco? For someone who doesn't even have Facebook, who is almost anti-technology, who is analog in a digital time. For someone who spent the past three years dealing with the Indian government on trying to build an infrastructure project, only to face a smug techster that claims he is doing more to change the world through the Internet. I know there are normal people there, but how do you avoid the rat race of new gadgets, skinny jeans, and $5 cups of fair trade organic coffee? It almost makes me feel like Frodo going back to the Shire. Has my world prism changed so much that I can't even go back to a place I called home for 7 years? Where things like second breakfast and elevensies lose the charm they once had? How do you go back?
Maybe I'm just scared. Scared of being back in a city I already know, of facing the thought of settling down. I guess in the back of my mind, I always knew that San Diego and Singapore would just be sojourns. San Diego was a stopping point to wait for ew to finish her PhD. So even though I was pretty much a townie during that time, it was just to be with her, and we would move on together. And similarly, Singapore was just another experience for ew and I to have, the abroad experience I always craved. Maybe in my mind, I was always open to an open-ended stay, but I knew ew always wanted to go back to the US at some point. Her agreement was really only for the length of her postdoc, 3 years. Singapore was never a place where we envisioned ourselves long-term, even if we were here an indefinite amount of time. And though we both became more open to staying longer than 3 years, it never really became the place to stay. But in the Bay, there is a sense of finality to it. I know that doesn't have to be the case, but there is no next plan. No postdoc to finish. Nothing pulling us to another place. We've talked about being open to other opportunities abroad, but we've also talked about settling down. And while I've faced this prospect in my career, this is the first time ew is facing it in hers. There's no milestone anymore. Her career is open-ended, with no real cutoff points for decisions on what to do next.
Maybe it's that last part that scares me the most. In my last diving trip, a guy said to me that he can't understand local Singaporeans who settle down in their 20s and then they inevitably cheat on each other in their 30s because they've changed so much. I think he was just giving an excuse for being single still, but it made me think that ew and I fit this mold. We've been together almost 10 years, and we both just turned 30. We have changed a lot from when we first got together. And maybe we are much different from when we first fell in love and maybe it is harder to get along sometimes. But then I think how we've changed together. We've gone through all these experiences together. And our love has changed in that way too. But maybe her career is the wildcard now. For the first time, I'm scared that we're growing separately. That her career will pull her in different directions, and that she will grow and change, apart from me. I think a part of me feels that way already with the way this move has come. And maybe in the future it continues down this path.
It feels hypocritical to feel this way, as I've always tried to encourage her to keep going, to keep pushing. But maybe I'm more wedded to tradition than I thought. Where I feel resentment for having to give up my career choices and dreams for hers. Where I feel the sacrifices are no longer done together, but by me. It's funny, because I've always joked around and told people that I would love to be a house husband. But I guess I've always wanted it on my terms. And maybe I've deceived myself into thinking that I was doing things on our terms. That my move to San Diego was for us, that the move to Singapore was for us. When in fact, maybe it was all for me and what I wanted out of my life, my career. And that ew was doing it for me, for us in that respect. That once it became inconvenient for me, I exploded and fought and fought.
We can't stop the world from changing and evolving; we can't stop us from changing and evolving. As much as we fight it and never want to let go, sometimes we have to. Ew and I are different from when we came to Singapore She does have a career now. I can either keep hoping things are the way I want it and watch us continue to grow separately, or I can try to do what ew did, and try to grow together.
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