We just came home from two (almost) back-to-back trips. First, we were in enchanting Stockholm. Then, we explored exciting Dublin.
Both trips brought out my repressed desire to leave Helsinki behind. This city, while quiet and welcoming, sometimes feel constricting. I feel I do not belong here. Yet, oddly enough I choose to stay. I stay not just because of family and friends but because I know living here is the most practical option.
The city is relatively quieter than most capitals. The air is clean. There are good playgrounds for kids. Moms have NGO-arranged activities. Plus, etcetera and so forth.
But somehow it doesn't feel like home. I do not know where home is. Actually, I do not know what home is.
I want to go on and on and on about theories of being lost and found but I am way past that melancholy. I think the whole displacement comes with the huge change that motherhood brings. After all, my career has and will continue to take huge back steps.
My job now is to be a home keeper. I have yet to learn to bake delicious pies, clean windows perfectly and keep potted plants alive but step-by-step, my life has become defined by what I did at home for the day.
It is brain wracking.
However, I find comfort that I am learning a lot and my character is shifting. For example, I have learned to find comfort in arranging the house. Wow huh? Cleaning the house should be annoying not comforting. Yet, here I am writing that indeed housework makes me sane.
What is weird?
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