About a year ago, I received a very kind email from someone who wanted me to talk a little bit about what it is like to be a trailing spouse.

I have never referred to myself as a trailing spouse, nor any other ridiculous 50′s style connatation.  My life is incredibly glamourous dammit, and I am the queen of Sheba sitting on my throne and beheading idiots.  I am a resource of inspiration and fascination for the public, wherever I move I bless the people in that city and they name food items after me.  I did not trail anyone here, I was asked to come to Canada by Stephen Harper himself.  He begged, and I eventually submitted.  I debate the benefits of British living over high tea with Charles and Camelia.

Ever so matured and evolved, I started my response.  ”I am not a trailing spouse.  You are.”  And then I actually deleted the email, knowing that I have no idea how to respond.  And be honest.  But that is not fair to that person.  So I will try here to do so.  Without making myself sound like a suitcase that Pedram takes with him on his life journey.  And I will try to be succinct about it.

Just keep in mind, that for every person it is different.

You want to integrate, but the definition of this Belgian delicacy is "pressed head". So you just stick to Belgian chocolate.

Let’s make things clear first — I knew before I got married that I would be living abroad.  That I might live a few difference places before settling.  If ever.  I also knew that I would be moving to a new place indefinitely.  This is a HUGE distinction in my eyes.  Knowing that you are moving to a new town and city for a year or two, you have a very different attitude about the experience.  I have never had that — “lets take advantage of our adventure abroad feeling”, cause it wasn’t an adventure.  It was my life – I had no other home to go back to.  I also knew that I would be taking the more challenging route — different language means that I wouldn’t be able to go to school or work as easily, would have more difficulty making friends, engage in different cultures, build a brand new life with different expectations and understandings, only to move and start all over again.  I am also married to a European and francophone, so our transitions to new enviroments are incredibly varied.

My first suggestion is to try out markets. Great place to practice a new language.

That is where I come from, and I know from my large group of expat friends in Europe and Montreal, that every person has a different experience and expectations.  For many people, the word expat means that you have a lot of money, which was not our case either.  When I first came to Brussels, Pedram and I had just gotten married, and I brought over my US savings with me.  That lasted me my first month.  Having nothing to do during the day, I spent spent spent.  I flew back to Seattle, I went on shopping sprees, and I ate at cafes by myself.  And then one day, I was at a market, and called Pedram for the 20th time that day, and he told me to stop buying oranges, cause we simply could not afford them.  He was right. I needed to change my spending habits.  It was a very very tough pill to swallow.  And I did not take it well.

Hang out with locals to see how they eat fish

It is hard moving to a new country or city because of one person’s job and then having to rearrange your life around it.  I found a job, I was able to contribute to the family pool, but I never felt confident that I was enhancing my life goals.  It was not the same case for Pedram, who for ever move we made, has been rising up the ranks.  Even with a job, I was faced with lots of time and no idea how to fill it.  I passed the weekends planning trips with my million days of vacation, and would subsequently make all my friends jealous.  But the reality was that I would rather just go to someone’s house and enjoy a nice cup of tea and the company of a close friend than a trip to Geneva.  I am someone who is perpetually homesick.

Take your new budding hobby to a coffee shop and parade your dog in hopes that someone, anyone, might find you interesting and strike up a conversation

Now that we are on our third country together, I am very grateful for the experiences I have had and the stories we’ve created.  I may complain and groan about the moves, the difficulties making friends, the different food or electrical units, the 5 months of snow etc., but I don’t doubt that this experience has enriched my life.  And honestly, I think it has strengthen my marriage.

Be creative! Invite the local Frenchies over for clementines and tea and a game of ice hockey. Spend the whole time wondering if the word "puck" in french sounds like "puke"

I have, like many other expats I know, recreated myself through the experience.  I have friends from different cultures and identities, who have broaden my understanding of the world and myself.  I am much more independent and more comfortable in my own abilities, whether it is dealing with a visa issue at an embassy or speaking a new language, I am more confident.  I know other spouses who have turned their hobbies into a job, their personal blogs into a freelance job, and embarked on new challenges around the globe.  So I would (and do) recommend it to everyone.  But I try to be realistic about it and their expectations — it is not easy.  You have to try hard to make friends with locals and not just other expats.  You may have to learn a new language late in your life.  You must build structure in your day if you are not working, and venture out beyond your personal comfort zone to achieve goals.

You might hate it, but don’t give up, keep trying, cause you might miss it once you’ve moved on.

To be clear, I don't miss the epic snow. But it is fun to look back at the pictures.