I almost always look down on people with Homesickness who are abroad. I think they're pansies. I think they're ridiculous. I think they're ungrateful.
And then it happened to me.
I'm sure the 11 hours of class on Saturday didn't help, either.
Today it rained. It's the first time I've seen and smelled and felt rain since the nine month Reign of Rain in Portland this past year. And as odd as this is, experiencing the rain - the one thing I absolutely hated about Portland - made me miss it. So much. <3 It made me miss my favorite, cozy blanket bear snuggles. It made me miss delivery pizza with pineapples and mushrooms from Bellagios. It made me miss the cheap movie theaters that serve alcohol and pizza. It made me miss the wide variety of yummy restaurants all over town. It made me miss the backyard forest. It even made me miss Moxie's sunroof leaking constantly!
I know last summer wasn't a dream - I have a whole blog full of quips and photos to prove it. I know I was in love with the language, the people, the culture, the stores, the TV shows, the public transportation, the shops, the siestas... everything. But just as I think I'm getting close to discovering even a tiny bit of love for Spain again, something inside of me pulls on my dress and tells me I'm in the wrong place and I've messed up horribly. That I wasn't supposed to come back. I was supposed to go somewhere else. Be someone else.
When Abby came into our room while I was writing this entry, she saw me crying and asked what was wrong. It was nice to have someone to talk to and just listen. Someone who doesn't know me from before three weeks ago. We agreed we both felt like we weren't giving our experience a fair chance. That we needed to find a way to be happier and proactive. She started looking for rugby teams in Madrid. I started looking for West Coast Swing groups in Madrid. :) It was cute.
I was expecting that returning to Madrid would be easy. I had been waiting to come back since before I even got on the plane headed back to America last August. I didn't know it would take bravery. I had no idea how lost I would feel. How nauseously homesick I'd feel. What I really didn't know was how much I'd been punishing myself since I left. And how it would only get worse when I returned. Ever since the plane landed in Madrid, I haven't felt like I've deserved any amount of happiness. I'm trying to make everyone else happy and feeling like I'm totally failing. And the more I try, the more I fail, and the less I think I deserve my own love and the more I try, and the more I fail, until I just want to crawl under the bed and come out in December on the day break starts. What a mess. >_<
And so the goal for this week is going to be to try to begin loving myself again. And it makes me cry to think how hard that's going to be. I need to give this teaching thing a chance. I need to give myself permission to be happy. I need to acknowledge just how very much I'm loved and stop feeling like I don't deserve a speck of it. Because the truth is, this self-indulgent feeling of being so very disappointed in myself isn't going to get me anywhere.
Tonight I was reminded that the person who can do the most good is the person who loves themselves first. No wonder I've felt like I've been nothing but a useless blob since I got here. >_<
I told myself I had 'til October 1st to fall apart and back together again. Today was my last day of luxuriating in the pool of self-deprecation. I've been expecting so much from myself and feeling like I've been falling so short. I'm long overdue for a gentle conversation with myself. I have a lot of work to do this week - and I'm not even talking about all the classes I have to plan and teach that I've been too down all weekend long to do nor about all the Master's classwork online I start tomorrow! But, when I think about it, I've done far crazier things before and succeeded like aBAMF.
I am right where I'm supposed to be. I am loved for who I am. It's okay not to be perfect. I deserve happiness.
*repeats until I start to believe it*
XOXO
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