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Finding your feet again.. or maybe just new shoes !

As featured in Norran newspaper and online...

It’s funny how reality always seems to differ from the big dream. On paper we have everything we dreamt of and more. By choosing to leave the UK behind we have gained so much. A beautiful large house set in the idyllic Swedish countryside. We live in a small village that fuels itself on kindness, community and a unified desire to share how proud we are of our little spot on planet Earth.

We are extremely blessed to be able to access forest, field and hillside walks all from our doorstep. To be able to swim in the lake less then a mile from home and take lazy summer days at the beach just a short drive away. Regular pinch me moments whilst standing beneath a sky shining bright with the glorious green glow of lady Aurora, not to mention living in a real life Christmas movie when those first gentle, slow falling snowflakes start to land.

I take none of this for granted, I marvel at it everyday and I hope that shows through my numerous posts on my social media and my written work and drawings… I honestly do count my blessings to have all of this.


What do you then do with the negative feelings?

There are always two sides to any coin. You can have a penny in your hand that shines brilliantly on one side, but flip it and the other is dull and somewhat tarnished.

My love for my new home comes with side effects. Things I perhaps didn’t expect, foolishly or not.

People ask me “Do you miss anything from England”? And the answer aside from family and friends is familiarity. I miss familiarity.

I miss knowing where my place is in society. I am still trying to figure out my role here and desperately seeking to bed in some roots so I can anchor myself in what feels like a sea of uncertainty.

Familiarity gives us a feeling of understanding and comfort… like an old shoe that has moulded itself to the shape of your foot, the leather has grown soft and flexes easily and you forget you are wearing them.

At the moment, even though we are three years down the line, my shoe still feels a little tight in places and can even leave me with a blister of frustration or confusion from time to time.

They can rub on occasions when I feel embarrassed or ignorant to have nowhere near the grasp of the Swedish language that I hoped I would by now. They pinch and squeeze when I try to understand the bureaucracy of a new country and the quirks and customs of a new culture.

But, having said that, the leather is starting to soften, I feel at ease navigating the roads, the supermarkets, polite conversations and saying “I’m sorry, my Swedish is terrible”!

One thing about Sweden, everyone has a shoe horn they are happy to lend you, just to make those shoes a little easier to put on.

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