How to stay sane as an expat partner

‘You mums that don’t work, you have it so easy”

my friend says, and I nod.

What other response is there to a single working mother with three kids?

This isn’t the first time this comment is leveled at me, hell, it is the theme tune to my expatriation.

Perfecting the work-life balance

I recently heard a report on the BBC. An extensive study has proven that working one day a week is the perfect work-life balance. More than that and people begrudge the time, if you don’t work at all you lose confidence, financial independence and the meeting new people.

I have struggled with the work / not to work situation ever since I left my job 8 years ago. I’ve done both.

I’ve not worked. I’ve looked after 3 young babies and never been so tired in my entire life. I’ve dealt with postnatal depression alone and far away from my family. I’ve juggled babies with no job to distract me and no way to meet new friends. I’ve also dealt the endless comments about how lucky I am; to raise my children (agreed), to have all that free time (WTF), to be able to get up late, have girly lunches, go to the spa, spend my day shopping (are you mental). Without a doubt, the time that I didn’t work at all was the most miserable of my life. I lost my self-identity, my independence and for a while my mind. Yep, not working at all really sucked.

Expatriation the right way?

I have friends that don’t work and they seem to get it right. I have friends who visit the salon 3 times a week and have lunch every other day. I have friends with no job, no kids and 6 staff. I have friends that don’t work and I have literally no idea what they do all day, but they seem pretty happy with their status quo.

This, I think, is what life is supposed to be like. And yet, through my own actions my life isn’t. Those dark times; that desperate isolation, the loss knowing who I was, what my function was (beyond that of wife and mother) it will stay with me forever.

My routine starts at 6, I take the kids to school, a quick run, and then I sit at my computer for 6 hours. I don’t earn any real money, I am endlessly frustrated by the work I do and yet I’ve been doing the same thing most days for 5 years.

The definition of madness, they say, is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

The realities of working from home

So what am I doing all day on this computer?

Well, sometimes I’m writing this blog. Blogs like this particular one I write for me, for my sanity, I consider it a kind of open diary or free therapy. Thoughts bubble around my head for a week or two before they coalesce into something that makes a kind of sense and I write it down before it drifts away. The solidifying of that thought helps me understand how I’m feeling. So now you know, you are all my therapists.

Sometimes I write blogs specifically to attract people to my website. Blogs with information. Occasionally these are fun to write. Describing my latest pub-crawl was fun and writing up camping trips is a form of a memoir, but researching into hospitals and local schools less so.

Sometimes I spend the day trying to figure out how to monetize my site, I read other blogs and take a course and sign up to affiliates. Earning money is a sign of success, of independence and so it’s important to me. But the little amounts I earn make a mockery of it and so sometimes I abandon the blog and return to freelance writing.

Freelance writing is incredibly painful unless you are AA Gill or have very thick skin. You spend 5 days a week thinking of stories, writing up amazing pitches, sending them to editors to hear nothing in response. Occasionally you get a break, by that time you are desperate and thankful for whatever scraps they throw you. I know I’m worth more, but I need some kind of compensation for the hours I’ve spent working, so I accept what they offer.

Is this really work or just time wasting?

So here’s the rub. I work. I work as long and as hard as anyone I know. I receive little to no pay. No perks, no praise and no recognition. My work feels so flimsy and unimportant that I don’t want to correct people when they assume I spend all day down the spa. I don’t earn much so it doesn’t mean anything, I don’t have a job title so it’s not a real job.

Am I wasting my life? Am I wasting my life?

The question rolls round and round my head.

Would I be happier if I just chilled out a bit? Should I down tools and go for a walk or arrange a manicure or catch up with a friend? If this was the last day of my life would I want to have spent it scouring job boards or to have fed a giraffe and eaten ice cream?

But the job, this blog, for all its endless frustrations does mean something to me. It means everything in fact. I once wrote a blog that asked

“Who am I if I don’t work? Can we ever really be happy if we don’t have an identity of our own? How in a foreign country without a job can we carve a niche for ourselves and begin to understand what contribution we make to the world?”

https://theexpatmummy.com/the-expat-blues/

18 months later the question remains unanswered. My response to my own question was to create this blog and drive it forward. To write and write and write and being to identify myself as a writer. I need this blog, those frustrating weeks of pitching, these occasional published stories. I need them to feel like me.. a me that is independent of my husband, my kids and my location.

My writing, which is my passion, stops me from being bored and gives me a sense of purpose.

To work or not to work?

Over the years people have emailed me and asked “what will my life be like in Nairobi?”, “What is you daily routine?” ,  “ How will I meet people?|”.  The same questions I had when I came here. 

The truth is, that there is no answer. Here in Nairobi, as with any expat assignment, you need to carve your own path.  There is only one deliverable as an expat partner… keep yourself sane.

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