Reflections about Ireland, my return and how many things since then

I came back from Ireland more than two years ago.

As it happened last year (link) I did not manage to write timely as March seems always to be a busy month. However, I did want to write some words in order to reflect on this time.

Readapting to the things I was used to wasn’t easy at all, but I believe that for the first time I am able to see things in perspective without bad or unwanted feelings.

Some months after coming back, the first weeks in Sao Paulo in 2015, I met a guy, friend of a friend, who told me a little about his experience. He lived in different countries, such as Argentina and France, before settling down in Sao Paulo. Describing my mood and doubts at that time, he said: you cannot come back to the reality you had before going abroad. Everything will change, as well as you.

It made sense. All the sense that exists in the world. In a nutshell, I came back in order to escape from a bad situation and my intention was to come back to my old life. Friends, same kind of work, known places, same lifestyle. What my surprise was when those things did not exist anymore. I mean, streets are there, friends are there, but somehow they changed. Most importantly, I changed. The person who took the plane in April 2014 was not at all the person who returned one year later. That conversation in a café in Sao Paulo helped me understand a lot what was going on.

I learned a large range of things since then. Most importantly, I learned to be patient with myself as I finally understood that I went through diverse situations that overwhelmed me.

I had established something in Ireland. Not exactly a routine, far from that actually, but I had my friends, was used to Dublin, was enchanted by that easiness of travelling around in Europe. I was in the middle of a cosmopolitan place and suddenly… It was over. I was back to my hometown in the countryside cross the Atlantic. Miles away from the new world I had achieved. Although I was surrounded by loving and caring people (my family) I soon realised I wanted that life again.

To make matters worse, I made the stupid mistake to stay four months in the countryside in my parent’s house. I don’t precisely hate my hometown, I just don’t want to live there and, come on, spending four months sharing a house with your parents was just the worst decision. I was short of money, but I should’ve tried to come to Sao Paulo right away.

Back in Sao Paulo, I felt that my life was coming back to me. Friends again, my favourite places. The matter, so, was a job. I didn’t have one and I needed one. Then my money was running out and I heard those who suggested looking for a job in a language school?” I didn’t want that at all, but I had to do so.

Amazingly, I enjoyed teaching and started thinking that I could do that permanently. I was almost on the breadline, but somehow the experience was joyful.  It seemed that finally there was something good on the horizon.


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One of my last pics in Europe. Charles de Gaulle Airport, Paris, 2015


When things started improving and I was getting used to my routine, they I quit everything to come back to Journalism, to an opportunity that seemed to be too precious to be true. I tried, I failed and I decided to study for CAE. In other words, I had three different routines during just one year.

In January, after getting my result, I started working again. Since then I have almost a semester doing the same and this is gorgeous. I can make ends meet and despite the fact I feel I should be earning more money (you know, Sao Paulo, everyone is kind of workaholic here) I like my life now. So much that I realised, during a walk in a hot and pleasant evening, that I was happy. Not only that day, but almost every day in 2017. I wasn’t used to that anymore. Quite shocking. Two years with a constant feeling of depression. So much that I marvelled the feeling of peace I was experiencing. More: I noticed I was happier that evening than many days in Ireland.

I still have bad moments when I feel kind of lost and want to cry because it seems I’m not going anywhere (as a 32-year-old woman should be doing), I can’t complain because most of the time I feel good.

I’ll never forget what I lived in Ireland, but I put many things behind – at least I’m trying it. For the first time in ages, I wake up thinking about present stuff and, even better, about the future! If all goes well next year I set off on a new adventure, this time around South America. That means new people, new experiences, a bunch of new feelings, good and probably bad, but new ones.


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My feet resting in Kinsale, Ireland, 2015, my last weekend in the country


I also consider the idea of going back to Ireland for a while. But this is later. Now I have new things to explore, to discover, to live. As I wrote on my Facebook, Ireland was a beautiful chapter. But that one is gone.

At the end of the day, I like the person I turned into. I see my new pics on short trips close to the places I live and I like looking at myself. I see a girl who almost reached the rock bottom but survived and is willing to live more and more.



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