How did I end up in Berlin?

Is it only me, or do other native English speakers also feel like their English has gotten worse after moving abroad? I used to be the queen of grammar, when to use whom instead of who, and the oxford comma. Since moving to Berlin, I feel that my grammar and sentence structure has slowly gotten worse, my intonation is all over the place, and I constantly forget words that I knew before. In my Pilates class, I have women ask me if what they're saying is the "right" English way of saying something, and I have imposter syndrome while correcting them even though it's my own native language!

This is one of the evolutions in my life that sometime make me wonder "how did I even end up in Berlin?" I also get this feeling while strolling down Oderbergerstrasse eating Hokey Pokey ice cream, flying downhill on my bike past Berlinerdom, and utilizing my basic German to speak to a man who lived through WWII in his backyard in Kopenick. Sometimes it's nice to remind myself that I'm really just a speck of dust that could have ended up anywhere, that the worries I have in my head are irrelevant, and that things could change in an instant. I was shocked when I thought about the fact that last year Alex and I were living in Lisbon in Principe Real, planning to buy an apartment that would have made us broke, and feeding ourselves banana peanut butter toast every morning. When I think about that time in my life, it feels like it was at least 3 years ago, not last year. It's kind of a nice feeling - knowing that things can change drastically and that I will be able to make it work no matter what. Last year, I never would have imagined that I would work for a CFO who would fire me 12 months later. I never imagined that I would reach my goal of making 6 figures before turning 27. I hoped that I would one day be able to get a German passport while keeping my American one, and now this will become a reality this summer. It's crazy how fast and slowly life can move when you take a moment to reflect.

So how did I end up in Berlin? I knew from a young age that ✨ EUROPE ✨ was somewhere I wanted to go. I was tired of hot, slow, and lethargic summers spent in Bangladesh. I reveled in the few hours my family would spend during a layover in Charles de Gaulle or Heathrow airport. I spent countless days researching European destinations, dreaming about the eventual day when I would do a study abroad semester to break out of my suburban New England town. Whenever I broached this topic with my family, they would usually entertain the thought for all of 5 seconds before telling me whatever negative stereotype they could whip out about the country at hand. If it were up to my Dad, I would never have travelled outside a 10 mile radius of 02186. I had an inkling at a young age that if I wanted to make my study abroad semester happen, I should start saving soon. I got a job at 14 teaching kids on Saturdays about darkroom photography, improv acting, science in the kitchen, and babysat whenever I could. Even before my study abroad semester came to be, I had the opportunity to volunteer abroad in Belize, which I wholeheartedly committed to even though my family was vehemently against the trip. Even my oldest sister, who just had her first baby, made me feel bad about missing the first few weeks of my nephew's life to go on this service trip. I get the sentiment, but if you knew me at all, you would also have known how much of a big deal this international trip meant to me.

When my study abroad semester finally arrived, I stole my passport from my Dad's bedside drawer to take it to my university's study abroad office to get my Spanish visa. And WOW, lemme tell you, there was drama. But nothing was going to stop my from spending my semester in Europe. I financed all my travels and experiences that semester with the money I had saved up from holiday gifts, working hours, and babysitting. I spent a cool 10k in 6 months but this was worth it to me to experience the rocky beaches of the Amalfi coast, the hot spas of Budapest, croissants in Paris, living with my Spanish host mom on the same street as the best club in Granada, and getting lost in London on my own. I grew as a person, had the time of my life, and made friends I still have to this day during that semester. When I returned back to the states to go to my finance internship in NYC, I cried like a baby. I loathed the hustle culture I was being thrown into when glamorizing 12 hour days was the last thing that I wanted to do.

One more international trip in my final year of university and one return visit back to Granada finalized the decision to move to Europe permanently. I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but I knew that Milton, MA wasn't my final destination. I was working at Wayfair in Boston at the time, and the company started to invest a lot of money into their Berlin office. Berlin was definitely not my idea of the European glamour I was chasing, but I would take it. I started to ask to be more and more involved with our Immigration & Global Mobility teams at Wayfair so that I could work more closely with my German counterparts. I became the bridge between employees in our Boston and Berlin office and genuinely enjoyed the work I was doing. I even got to visit Berlin 3 times on work trips to follow up on projects I had initiated in Boston. It was on these trips that I really fell in love with Berlin: sipping coffee at Anna Blume on a crisp fall afternoon, the blur in my head of going from Klunkerkranich to Tresor on my first night clubbing in Berlin, doing yoga on the rooftop of the Wayfair office, and walking along the canal to Admiralbrücke after having Vietnamese food in Bergmannkietz. These are some of my fondest and earliest memories of Berlin and why I began to insist that I move to Berlin. It was a plan I hatched one plane ride home from Berlin and I didn't give up on this dream for a year. It was a topic I brought up in every weekly 1x1 with my manager (I think I went through 5 managers in the 1 year I tried to make this happen). There was no way I was letting go of this dream because at the time, it was the most important thing to me. It became the thing that got me through the touch days: the cold winter in Boston, my mediocre relationship, the constant tension at home, and my corporate 9-5 job. All of this was OK to me because I knew that I would be moving to Berlin soon.

When I finally was able to move, it didn't come without its outbursts. My parents didn't believe that I was actually moving until the dropped me off at the airport. I remember my mom waiting in the car, my dad coming in with me to check in my 5 suitcases, and then running the the gate of my flight because the plane was taking off early (since when does that happen)?! I remember wearing my favorite LL Bean puffer jacket that went down to my knees, a green J.Crew turtleneck, skinny jeans, and bean boots and calling my dad when I got into my seat to let him know that I was already taking off. In that moment, it felt so surreal. I didn't know that I wouldn't return to Boston in over 3 years! I didn't know that my relationship with my parents would disintegrate. But I did know that I was so overwhelmed to finally be doing something for myself. Not something that anybody had suggested for me. I was finally fully in the driver's sear and I prayed that I would make it work.

I arrived at Tegel Airport with not a care in the world. I hauled my 5 suitcases into a cab and unpacked all my things that evening at 129 Invalidenstrasse. I was completely alone and totally psyched about it. Two months later, COVID hit, giving me the wildest year of my life where I took each day as it came. I was deep in my self improvement era, planning a trip to a new city as restrictions lifted, and putting myself out there as best as I knew how. It paid off when I met Alex at the end of that year. When I hit my 1 year anniversary of moving to Berlin, I felt like I had a lot but also nothing figured out. I knew that I wouldn't be returning to Boston, maybe ever.

I don't feel homesick for Boston, but sometimes I feel homesick for the familiarity of it all. For the smell of the MBTA in the summer, the ducks at Boston Common, Equinox eucalyptus towels, and the drive down Brush Hill Road. I hope that one day, I have that familiarity for wherever I settle down. I hope that one day my parents can see the life I've built for myself and be happy for me and how it all turned out, instead of spewing a constant stream of critique. I want them to know that I'm happy! That the girl who flew away in her Bean Boots is a well functioning adult!

I told my sister the other day that I feel good in my head. So much of my 20s has been spent worrying about when the pieces will fall into place. Now I can say that I've found a lot of those pieces: a partner, a home, a support system, a career, hobbies, etc. Now it's the time to ENJOY those puzzle pieces. I still have a few more years before kids and building a home. I can enjoy my life now that I have the stability, money, independence, and confidence to do the things I like to do.