And no, it's not my own work.
You probably have one or two people in your life you see moving all the time because of work, right? Their partner might join the adventure and you see them living in all kinds of big cities and little towns, having experiences, getting to know new people and places, etc...
Well, today I'm gonna tell you how it feels to be this person, or rather, how it feels to be the partner of someone who works "on the road".
I never thought I would be the one following
I grew up hearing stories about my grandparents moving all over the place with my mother and uncle because of demands from grandpa's work. He was in the Air Force and moved every few years to work at a new base. My grandma had to leave her work behind to join my grandpa and take care of the kids.
In the sixties, this was not uncommon and women didn't have the perspectives I get to have now. Both my mother and grandma reinforced the idea that it was ok for them to do it because they had no other choice, but I have. I shouldn't have to bow down to my partner's work goals and forget my own, living as if their objectives were ours as a couple. They were absolutely right! And I refuse to bow down.
In college, I studied International Relations and dreamed to be a diplomat someday, living in all corners of the world, negotiating all sorts of things with different governments from different cultures. By the end of my studies, I had already changed my mind because I started seeing diplomats as soldiers in suits, having to comply with their government no matter what, and I didn't agree with that. I also started to think about my future family and how they would feel having to move all the time and not grow roots anywhere. I started to feel that, as a woman, that was a much more daunting choice for me than it would be for a man. We grow up and socialize to think more about the needs of others whereas men get to put themselves first more often than not. I was bothered by that though, but decided that while I could and was dependent on no one, I would give myself the chance to explore other places.
Challenges and choices: the dilemma of moving for his work
I moved out of my mother's home to a mega city and started to work in the start-up world. Covid hit and showed us the possibility of working remotely, opening up a whole new range of life perspectives.
By the end of 2021, after our first year living together, my partner got the opportunity to work with a huge government oil and gas company in my hometown. I was not ready to give up my mega-city dream life, so I decided to stay and find a roommate who I could share our two-bedroom apartment with. He left and we transitioned to a long-distance relationship.
It was not an easy period for me, as I started to descend into my burnout spiral and didn't have the (in-person) support I didn't know I needed, even though I became very close friends with my roommate.
The end of 2022 marked the end of my alone time in the megacity, as I decided to be closer to family, close friends, and him. As I made up my mind, we started apartment hunting in my hometown, and almost rented a place, when he was informed he would be transferred to a construction site just outside my hometown's metropolitan area. We hurried to find a house we could live in, in another small town close enough to my family and his work, and off we went, thinking we would stay there for at least a couple of years.
Little did we know that only 3 months after moving, he would be transferred again, further away into the countryside.
The impact of moving for his work on my identity
I began seeing myself in my grandma's shoes. Being unemployed for several months and actually depending on him financially took a toll on me. I saw my independence slowly starting to fade away and it enraged me. What the hell was I doing with my life? Is that why I studied and worked so hard in the past? To simply follow a guy and watch him conquer his professional goals one move at a time while I stay at home, wherever that was, mopping the floors, making the bed, and asking how was his day when he gets home?
I began resenting him, his choices, and mine. No one was forcing me to be with him and join this ride, but not going with him meant possibly going back to mother's or renting a place to live alone again, none of which I was willing to do. So moving for his work was the least bad choice.
One thing about me you must have gathered already: I hate feeling like my options were taken away from me by someone else and I despise when things go nowhere near how I had planned. I like to feel like I have some grip on things that happen to me, and right now, I don't.
Last Wednesday we went to the new town we'll be living in to find a house, or rather for me to approve of a house he had already found, to get to know the city and see if I was ok with living there.
Throughout all this, he has continually expressed his need for my approval and that I feel somewhat comfortable with all the changes we are embarking on. We talked about alternatives to living this way, we talked about what the future might look like for us, and if I'd be ok with this path. Going with him was consensual, although quite enerving.
What now?
I think part of my healing journey now is going toward a place of letting go of expectations and of what I think life should look like for me.
I have the possibility of remote work and I'm not unemployed anymore. I'm in touch with my passions again and I built a new set of boundaries and tools to deal as best as I can with my work. That means regaining my independence little by little and having where to hang on to when things shake up again.
I also have the right to change my opinion whenever it feels right and if I decide this life is no longer for me, I feel confident in myself and my gut to walk away.
But I must also be open to liking this path, realizing it might make sense for me, and not shutting myself down from the get-go. You never know, right?
Grandma, you were right. I will not bow down, but I'll give it a shot.
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