21 Hours Away

On the surface, it looks exciting.

You're moving to Australia. WOW, you're so lucky!

That's what a lot of people said to me.

And yes, there was a part of me that felt the excitement. Of course there was. Moving to the other side of the world is exciting.

But no one really seems to talk about the other side of it.

Yes, people move away from their families and friends all of the time. We did in 2018. We moved two hours away, and that felt like a big move at the time.

But 21 hours away feels a little different.

It's not a short flight to Europe or a seven-hour flight to the Middle East.

It's a day away.

I say that a lot now.

“I'm only a day away.”

And technically, I am.

But the harsh reality is, it's a long way.

It's the time difference that really gets you.

You're asleep when your family and friends are getting on with their afternoon and evenings. They're asleep when you wake up. You have to wait for your people to wake up, and suddenly this little window of time appears where you can actually catch up.

And despite technology being incredible, there's still an ache that comes with not being able to tell people things in real time.

You can't just pick up the phone and say, “Are you free? I've got something to tell you.”

You can't pop round.

You can't meet for a coffee.

You can't be there for the little things that you never really thought about before because

they were just normal.

A Sunday lunch.

A quick coffee.

A last-minute plan.

At home, nothing seems to change.

Your family and friends are still there. They're still going to work, having dinner, seeing each other, getting on with their lives.

And you're watching it all from the other side of the world, building a new life, away from everything and everyone you know.

Sometimes it's lonely.

There's a lot of clock watching.

Waiting for replies.

Waking up in the middle of the night and wondering what your people are doing.

Checking your phone because you know they should be awake now.

And sometimes it's not even that anything is wrong.

You just want to talk to someone when you want to talk to them.

You want to tell your family something that happened five minutes ago, not wait seven hours until the time difference lines up.

I think there's also a strange guilt that comes with choosing a life so far away.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, you learn to adjust.

You learn your new routines. You find your favourite places. You meet new people. You start to feel a little more settled.

And you learn that despite the distance, your people are still your people.

Yes, some relationships slow down.

That's probably inevitable when you're 21 hours away and living completely different days.

You don't speak as often. You miss things. You're not part of every little conversation or

every plan.

And that's hard.

But your family and friends don't suddenly stop being your family and friends because you're on the other side of the world. You just find a different way of being in each other's lives.

I can be incredibly happy with the life I've built here and still miss my family and friends desperately.

I can love Perth and still wish the people I love were closer.

I can be grateful for the life I've chosen and still feel the weight of what that choice means.

I think that's probably the part nobody tells you about moving to the other side of the world.

You don't stop loving home.

You just learn what it feels like to love it from 21 hours away.