The realization hit me like one of the raindrops smacking the window of the library in which I sat doing work Monday morning:
I have made a life here.
It was after a weekend spent going out with new friends and evolving into something more than small talk with my roommates. I have new local writing projects in the works in addition to the ones back home. I have a cell phone full of numbers and a regular supermarket I go to.
I never thought I wouldn’t find a new normal here. But it’s different when it actually happens. It’s sort of the extra accomplishment of having made such a big move. I also feel more certain that I made the right decision in opting not to be a backpacker while I’m here. I know people who are doing that and having an amazing time, and this is not a judgment against that lifestyle. But traveling around enables you to be fleeting, to leave things and people in your wake, and to go somewhere new if the current place isn’t working out.
Living in a new place forces to you to be more accountable, to put yourself out there because you have no other choice. I said when I first envisioned this move that I wanted to live in Australia. And that’s what I am doing. I may be a creative with my head often in the clouds, but I have at least one toe on this earth.