It's been almost five months already!

It's been almost five months since arriving in Bermuda to live (again). During those months a lot has happened. Besides the general work of an international move, we also sold our house in Virginia, endured a tropical storm, and started our 7th year of homeschooling. We unpacked two 20-ft containers' worth of boxes. We reconnected with old friends and re-involved ourselves with the local homeschool network. We opened new accounts and closed old ones. We memorized new phone numbers. And we have readjusted to driving on the other side of the road. Again.

It's just completely, utterly, overwhelmingly... wonderful.


Now, before I start gushing about my love for our new life, let's get one thing straight. I miss my loved ones. At first I missed our old house - the familiarity of it more than anything else. I miss Target and Krispy Kreme. And I really miss Amazon Prime shipping. But these occasional bursts of maudlin nostalgia are not the same as regretting or even second-guessing our decision to move back to this island. I miss pieces of our old life there, but I love being back in Bermuda. It feels like we came back home.

Here's the funny thing: I found that readjusting to living in the States after 10 years abroad was a lot more difficult than coming back to Bermuda. This makes no sense because I am from the States. I lived there my entire life up until marrying Matt - 21 years - and only spent 10 years in Bermuda. Yet when we moved back to Virginia I felt overwhelmed at the fast-paced vastness of the U.S. The enormous selection of groceries at stores was too much. It was really cold in the winter. The speed limit was so fast. And the ease of boundless and immediate shopping opportunities subtly made us all less patient and more materialistic. For inexplicable reasons, I felt like the foreigner.

However, returning to Bermuda has been the smoothest transition I could've hoped for. We quickly settled into our new life, embracing "island time" and everything that comes with it. The mere 21 sq. miles of this island were not confining, but comforting. I felt a reinvigorated tenderness for the Bermudian people. Old friends welcomed us with open arms, offering their help in every aspect of our move. We had truly come home.

We have settled into a much smaller house, and we love it. We are comfortable and cozy, and while we more than halved the size of our previous living space, we find we have more than enough room. I lived in my dream house - or what I thought was my dream house - in Virginia, but it didn't compare to the feel of our currently home on a quiet street five minutes from the ocean. I sit on my porch listening to my wind chimes blowing in the island breeze, and I am happy.

And here's another magical thing about living here: my kids suddenly play more. They are constantly outside. They are choosing toys instead of electronics. We are outdoorsy here, when we really never were back in Virginia. I don't know why. I think maybe it's the palm trees.



One of my biggest concerns was how my boys would adjust. The life we had in Virginia was all Asa knew; he was just a baby when we moved. Asher was six years old when we left Bermuda, so he had memories from our life and had maintained friendships even while we lived in the U.S. Fortunately, my concerns were for naught because the boys are doing famously. For the first six weeks, Asa occasionally asked when we were going back home. He asked about our old house. I think he just couldn't wrap his four-year old mind around such a big change. However, those questions have stopped. Asher, on the other hand, has never said he misses our old life. Not once. There have been no sleepless nights or tears or anything I had worried about. Other than missing their grandparents and friends, the boys have assimilated right back into Bermuda life. I'm sure it helped that we already had a large network of loved ones here. We picked up with old friendships like we'd never moved away in the first place.

Sometimes I am so happy I could burst. People don't like to hear that. They think it's all a facade. They think I share photos of our family, big smiles, on a pink beach when actually I'm crying into my tea cup as I put them online. But the truth is that I know we are where we're supposed to be. I step outside into the Bermuda sunshine and I am happy. The short drive into town past a blue harbor, the fast ferry making its way to the other side of the island, brings a feeling of calm despite the motorcycles buzzing past and the roar of pink buses. I watch my Bermudian children enjoying a childhood many would only dream of. Incredible aspects of their daily life are simply that: every day life. It's now the norm to hear the deep call of the cruise ships coming and going, to swim in the clearest, bluest water imaginable, to have the opportunity to learn sailing or diving, to see the ocean every single day, to pack away heavy winter coats, to swim with dolphins, to ride as passengers on Daddy's motorcycle. And my boys really appreciate the fact there are no snakes or ticks in Bermuda. They state this fact almost every time we are outside.

Island life is a simpler life. There is less stuff and more experiences.

I suppose the reason this transition has been so smooth is not that it feels like we have come back home; it's that we really have.