an aussie in austria

 

I go on a lot about homesickness… and I apologise, but I will probably continue to do so from time to time, because… well frankly because I have a damn good life which means that ‘minor’ issues such as these play a bigger part than they otherwise would.

And apart from you lovely folk reading my blog there is one other person who has to put up with a much bigger chunk of my whining.

My poor husband is the fall-out-guy. You see, out of all the people I know in Austria, he’s the one that can understand me the best, in an English sense. Generally with everyone else I speak to, one of us is using their second language, which makes it hard to explain subtleties, hard to sympathise and hard to get a point across. Which means that the only person I can really complain to in person, is my husband.

And it’s so difficult for him. Because not only does he not really understand what I am going through, but every time I do it, he feels guilty because he ultimately feels responsible for the fact that I have homesickness in the first place – because I moved here to be with him. Even writing this post is probably going to make him feel guilty!

The thing is, it’s not his fault. Nor does he have to make it better.

I have made a decision to stay here in Austria and I am happy here. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. And he’s also made it perfectly clear that he would move to Australia in a heartbeat if that is what I wanted and needed. And if we did, he would be the one having to deal with it.

The thing is, on the other side of homesickness, is the person that provides support. And his job might even be harder than mine. Because in a sense I’m given a free pass to complain, whinge, cry… I’m not at home after all! Whereas he is expected to support me without complaining. Sure, he has the luxury of doing it on his home soil, but it doesn’t make it easier. And I wonder… if the shoe was on the other foot, would I be as good as he is at supporting?

So I just want to apologise quickly for complaining about homesickness. And also to my husband, who because of it feels inadvertently guilty when he shouldn’t have to. Regardless, it will remain a dogged, yet slowly diminishing part of my life. And the reason it’s diminishing? Well, my awesome life of course, and my amazing husband!