You tell yourself it won’t happen this time, but it does. Always. It’s that subtle shift you feel each time you know you’re moving. That feeling of not quite belonging anymore.
It’s kind of hard to explain. You still live here, but in your mind you’re picturing the country you’re moving to. I’m not sure if it’s your coping mechanism kicking in, that sense of self-preservation? Don’t get too close anymore because it’ll hurt too much when you leave?
Once you’ve made a decision to move, something does change. You feel a little distant in certain situations. You don’t join in a conversation because you know you’re not going to be here for that dinner/event? Maybe you make less effort with a new person at the kid’s school? Or simply stop signing your kids up for activities because what’s the point? You’ll be leaving before the term finishes?
There’s definitely a sort of limbo-land you live through, where you still have to be in a certain place, but treading water until you move. I’ve felt it keenly many times.
I’m trying desperately to make sure the kids don’t feel it too, so a huge part of me doesn’t want to tell them we’re moving.
I still want them to belong.