In August 2012, a 24-year old hopeful and adventurous me packed 2 suitcases and boarded a one-way flight to Dublin. I had just landed a job with Google and the prospect of starting my professional career at one of the world’s most sought after workplaces filled me immense excitement. As much as I was excited, I was also nervous about moving to a different country; would I feel at home, would I be able to make friends, would I enjoy my job? I initially planned to stay in Dublin for a maximum of two years – I couldn’t imagine living far from my family for more than two years.
Two years passed in the blink of an eye. Then a third. Then a fourth. I’ve been privileged to have a job that brought me to Denmark quite often, so although I’d always miss my family and friends, I don’t think I’ve gone more than two months without seeing them, which made living in different countries bearable.
At the same time, I grew more and more attached to my Dublin life. I found my daily routines, I got my own apartment, I got more non-Google friends and slowly, but surely, Dublin became home.
Here on the verge of celebrating my 5th year in Dublin, it’s time to shake things up. On 1st July, I, 29 years old, still hopeful and adventurous, will fly to San Francisco with too many suitcases for my next endeavor. I’m moving to a new job in Google’s global headquarter, where I’ll work in a team that specialises in digital branding across different industries and I can’t wait meet new people, work with new businesses and be exposed to a completely new market. I’ve never been to SF or California before, but I have great expectations! I imagine myself doing morning runs along the beach with the Golden Gate bridge in view, drinking homemade kale smoothies while I listen to a podcast about mindfulness, going on weekend hiking trips, and who knows, I might even join a pottery class! I’ll also be spending 4 hours a day commuting to/from work, but let’s nok talk about that for now. Kale smoothies. Mindfulness. Morning runs.
Because I can
I’ve always known that Dublin couldn’t be forever, but I haven’t been in a hurry to get out of here either. Then one day, I got this feeling that I just couldn’t shake off. Like Leo DiCaprio entering the deepest level of my consciousness to spark an idea and out of nowhere, I had an urge to live out that idea. This might be the cheesiest shiz you will read today, but suddenly I felt that my life had gotten too comfortable and I was longing for the thrill of being thrown into the deep end. I want to be a residential tourist again, I want to explore different cultures and ways of living, I want to try new burger places (and compare them to Bunsen) and I want to learn something new about myself. I’m not ready to move back to Denmark and if I got a new job in Dublin, I probably would stay at least another 5 years and then buy a lovely cottage in the countryside (with a barn I could turn into a crossfit gym). So the move had to be transatlantic, because of all locations I’ve imagined myself in, San Francisco was the one that made me day dream the most. And I have to move now because I can – I have no kids, no moral dilemmas, no one to share food with and in another 5 years I want to look back at my decisions and have zero regrets (except for that tequila night in Madrid – so many regrets).
While I’m incredibly thrilled about this new chapter in my life, it also scares the shit out of me. I know I’ll be ugly crying during the first 3 hours of my flight, I’ll be homesick (double up on homes to miss), I might feel a bit lost and at times lonely, but I’ll also make it worth it.
To all of my wonderful friends here in Dublin – thank you for all your love and support, I’ll miss you endlessly.