Skip to main content

Lesson No. 2

Lesson No. 2: Living outside your home country can bring out the best in you -- and the worst.

I keep restarting this one. It keeps turning into this giant mush of self-pity, and that is not at all what I am intending to get out of writing this. What I would really like to come from this post is for people to see that no matter who you are, where you come from, or what your background is, it is freaking difficult to live outside your home country, and you don't have to feel bad if it's hard.

I know in the heading I mentioned the best first but I will save that -- the best -- for last...

I have always had this sense like certain things were harder for me to cope with than for others. I think everyone gets that feeling now and then. For some, it's paying attention in class. For others, it's noticing the emotions or nonverbal expressions of other people. 

For me it's keeping my cool in just about any social interaction beyond my circle of absolute closest friends and family. It's as if my whole brain shuts down, and my heart and digestive system totally take over. I can't think of words to say--even in english. I can't do math (giving change at a register, for instance). My stomach knots up. I sometimes cry if I feel like I wasn't prepared for certain interactions. I suddenly turn into a child who can't express feelings in any other way than grunts and twisted facial expressions. 

The most frustrating aspect of this affliction is that it directly effects my impressions on people. I seem rude for not speaking. I seem unqualified for needing time to collect my thoughts. I seem lazy for spending a lot of time at home.

I have continually thought that this was something I would get over -- eventually. A phase, perhaps. Or perhaps I just needed practice. But I am now 25 and it isn't any better. There are certain situations I have gotten used to such as going to the bank or the doctor or calling people on the phone. But they have never really felt a whole lot better. My heart always pounds. If they say something I wasn't prepared to respond to I still freeze, and I frequently cry in such a situation. But I just kind of accepted the reality that those things will always be uncomfortable for me. 

So if perhaps you have read any of my previous posts you might have gathered that people stare at me a LOT. And taking into account that I faced these exhausting feelings even in the comfort and luxury of life back in the U.S., you could imagine that living in an entirely different place far away from my original home where I am constantly sticking out brings my mental stress to a whole new level and those terribly inconveniently timed meltdowns to an all-time high (which brings more unwanted attention which makes the meltdown even more intense which...well, you get the cycle.) 

I have absolutely zero solution to this. Sorry. Even today as i'm typing this, my heart is pounding thinking about going to teach my next class. Something I've done a zillion times. So I'd say, no, you're not just going to magically get better at these things. If you've ever been told to "just pray," but that hasn't worked for you, you aren't a failure at praying right. That's not a thing. And I am more and more convinced that, there should be absolutely no judgement for those who need medication to face the day. I'm considering it. We are not naturally built to do (or feel good doing) so many of the things that we are forced to deal with these days. 

But, nevertheless I know that there are ways I never predicted that I am growing and becoming a better person. I am becoming a better teacher. I am forcing myself to take on learning a new language and am committed to learning it fully. I am learning the benefits of connecting with a variety of people. I am figuring out a lot of things on my own without help. But the greatest thing that living here has forced me to do is to push past my most severe struggle. To go places when I know I will likely encounter someone who will speak to me, and I won't know what to say. To teach a class when I've just had a meltdown, and I'm afraid I won't stop crying in time for class. To meet up with someone who I contacted even on days when my heart is pounding so hard, I can feel it in my throat. Back home, I likely would have given myself the excuse much more often. I still do occasionally. But I push myself much harder past those struggles because that's the experience I want to have here. I want to live. And I think travelling, more than anything, inspires you live life more fully, no matter how hard that might be.

So take heart, and don't feel inadequate if travelling feels so much more difficult to you than it should. But don't let that stop you! Know that fighting those forces of fear and stress will be oh so worth it in the end.

Comments

  1. Good for you sweet Nina Ruth. I can relate to much of this. It is not easy to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but so worth it. I wish the best for you. Please do give yourself grace and love the person God made you to be. You are very special and I like and love you very much!!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem: Thoughts Revealed in Ink and Lead

How beautifully, it seems, my physical world is colliding and intertwining with my spiritual world.  I quickly wrote down this poem about my morning's activity of transforming my ongoing journal of ten years (!?) into a bullet(ish) journal. I hope these words can encourage you to take a journey you may have been avoiding. Or acknowledge the beauty of a past you might be ashamed of. Or to maybe even just write it all down and let it be without having any judgement for it, good or bad. Because I guarantee you it will be valuable to someone some day. Thoughts Revealed in Ink and Lead Flipping through the past, numbering pages Turn by turn, the pen ink changes Then to pencil, the lead weight softens Back to pen again, now in color Once my thoughts were in black, bold Then became a bit runny, muddy, black still, though Scratched out ideas in every other line, corrections, re-directions (Forget that. It was silly.) Then they all turned to grey. Cloudy. Uncerta...

10 funny things about being pregnant

One of the most surprising responses I have gotten so far from more than one person since announcing my pregnancy has been something along the lines of "is it difficult being pregnant here/there (meaning in Rwanda)"? My automatic thought is..."uhhh I don't think it's any different than being pregnant anywhere else." Although I have no other frame of reference. So this blog post might be a lot less exciting than you were expecting. BUT I have been watching so many video blogs and reading so many forums that, now, I feel like I want to write about what it has been like for me so far. Just to warn you...it's probably pretty boring stuff.  Numbered lists always make things more fun to read so I'll do it this way: My top 10 things funny things about being pregnant [in Rwanda] so far. And how about this? For each point I will give you a takeaway (which may be useful or may not be relevant to you at all). 1.  Morning sickness was not what I expecte...

When Being Yourself Feels Wrong

In the US, the phrase has become a cliche.  It's synonymous with "The Land of Opportunity".  It was on a poster in at least one of my teachers' classrooms every year of grade school. It's every baby-boomer parent's dream for their child. It's the millennial battlecry.  "Be Yourself"  (or "bee yourself" when the poster had an illustration of a bee on it). I grew up to this mantra playing on repeat in the back of my mind. I continually strove to live up to this no-standard standard. I never tried to be trendy, and, as a matter of fact, I tried to be as un-trendy as possible. I always spoke my mind. I never pretended to be happy if I wasn't. I admitted proudly to others that I didn't like meeting people. To clarify, I didn't just happen to be that way out of nowhere. Much of this attitude came about because I was picked on in elementary school, and I quickly realised that popular, trendy kids were not going to like me. It...