Miss you, America.

I’ve been thinking a lot about New York lately and I realised that it’s around this time two years ago that we made the decision to move back to the UK. We were in Austin, Texas at the time and after months of debating the issue we made a decision, just like that. To be honest, I was in full nesting mode at the time and just wanted to be near my mum and to live in an apartment that didn’t require a trek up five flights of stairs. The decision that seemed impossible actually became pretty easy to make in the end.

I think I’ve started missing New York recently because the weather is getting nicer and this time of year is lovely there. Also because we’re just about to buy our first family home and it feels like we’re settling down now. Like we might not ever have that kind of crazy adventure again.

So I wanted to resurrect my ‘leaving America’ post, from my old blog about moving abroad.

Then I’m gonna start planning a trip back.

Thoughts on loving, and leaving, America

Two and a half years ago I was on a plane by myself, flying through the night from London on a very cold and miserable February evening and thinking how utterly bonkers it was that I was leaving my life in England to go and live in New York. The whole thing felt so surreal, kind of like it does now that we’re getting ready to make the reverse journey.

We had always wanted to live abroad and the idea came up from time to time but it was never the right time. A year previously Robbie had started interviewing for a role in Singapore (funnily enough, for the same company he ended up working for in New York) but then I got offered a new job in London and anyway, we were planning our wedding, so it seemed like the best thing to stop the process. But once we were married there was this golden window of opportunity and we felt like we had to take it. Turns out, it was one of the best decisions we’ve ever made.

Our American adventure has far exceeded anything we originally expected or hoped for. People-wise, we knew no one when we arrived and thought we’d make a few friends, but never dreamed we would meet so many amazing people. Career-wise, we figured that it might be a sideways step, which we were fine with because we were going for the adventure, when in fact we’ve both had incredibly rewarding experiences. It is deeply bittersweet to be moving back to England. We’re so excited to be back with family and friends we’ve known for a lifetime (and of course, having our daughter) but it is wrenching to leave this city and this country we have grown to love.

Someone at work told me that moving back to England is like giving up a superpower. And in a way, it is. I’ve never been so complimented on something I have no control over whatsoever: my accent. Who back home is going to think I sound so cute because I say pro-gress instead of prog-ress? Who is going to look suitably bamboozled in a meeting when I try to get round something by using lots of Britishisms? NO ONE! The accent does have its downsides though. It once took me ten minutes to order a tomato and feta salad in Pret because they thought the way I pronounced it was so hilarious that I had to keep repeating it — to everyone who worked there. In case you’re wondering, the correct American pronunciation is toe-MAY-toe and FED-ha. As for trying to order a bottle of water (boddle of war-dah), I’ve been met with blank expressions so many times that I’ve had to perfect a little mime. Finally, let’s not forget about the ‘Hank’ incident at Starbucks.

I’ve been very surprised and amused by how often I’ll say a word or a phrase and just won’t be understood. Some of them I can understand why (“chock-a-block”, granted, that’s a weird one) but others are pretty self-explanatory, right? Dressing gown? Cheeky pint? Knees-up? OK, that one might be tricky too. If you happen to suggest at work that you can get a budget figure via the back of a fag packet then that doesn’t go down very well. Much like trying to start a Mexican wave. (Top tip: It’s just ‘wave’ here, otherwise you sound like a Mexican-bashing weirdo who believes an entire country has their own bizarre standing-up, sitting-down wave.)

My own language has changed now too, peppered with Americanisms, from overly upbeat words and phrases like super cute and awesome, to plain just using the wrong words like trash and check, to hideous office-speak which I vowed never to succumb to but which I somehow did. Yes, I regularly find myself uttering the words, let’s reach out, and, let’s hold hands (code for: I’m about to put us all into crunch mode where we’ll have no social lives for a few weeks, but if I say hold hands then it sounds like we’re doing something fun and nice, and hopefully you won’t spit in my tea later). Many times throughout the working day I’ll connect with someone. It may look like I’m on the phone or in a meeting but it’s connecting.

So I think we’ve adapted pretty well to living here. I’ve definitely become less of a wuss about extreme weather. The seasons here are like nothing I’ve experienced before. You are guaranteed a hot summer, a cold winter and the most glorious spring and autumn. After a lifetime of drizzle, it’s been an awakening.

The New York winter, for example, is a matter of survival. Think snow that falls for hours and gets piled to the edge of the sidewalk in great mountains that leave you genuinely unable to cross the road, the temperature being so low that your camera freezes (yep, it happened) and cold seeping so deeply into your lungs that it hurts to breathe. At this stage, you can’t ever imagine being warm again but then, out of nowhere, spring comes and it’s perfect. Cafes start putting tables outside for brunch, people flock to see the cherry tree blossoms at Brooklyn Botanical Garden, and it all feels very fresh and lovely. You take off layers. You unfurl. Then: summer arrives, and you want to die a little bit.

The HUMIDITY! The sweat that starts pouring down your back as soon as you step outside. The terrible stink of trash bags on the sidewalk that ferment all night long. The fact that my hair takes on a frizzy life of its own that just will not be tamed with smoothing products or prayers. But… it’s also beautiful and New York totally steps up in the summer with many outdoor events, lots of them free, Summer Fridays, al fresco drinking and dining, trips upstate and actually being able to get a table for brunch at the weekends because everyone else is out of the city. I love it all, I love the complete otherness of it.

One thing that’s unlike anything I’ve experienced in England is neighborhood living. Yes, apartments in New York are small and expensive, and you may live on the top floor of a walk-up, above a raucous gay bar and cockroaches are a very real threat that you (or your husband) have to deal with, but having everything on your doorstep is pretty incredible. Your dry cleaner, your office, your gym, your Post Office, your local cinema, your mani-pedi salon, your favorite Mexican restaurant, your pick of countless brunch spots, your green space, your dive bar, wine bar, cocktail bar… Ten minutes west and we are at the High Line and the Hudson River, ten minutes south and we are in the West Village, ten minutes east and we are at our offices, and Fifth Avenue shopping. The convenience is amazing and I love, love, love walking everywhere. I can’t pretend I’m not nervous about the adjustment of not having that anymore.

But the really difficult thing, the thing that makes me want to cry just thinking about it, is leaving our friends here. The best thing that we’ve experienced has been the people we’ve met. I’ll just take a moment to reflect that in many ways Americans are the polar opposites to Brits. For instance, if I was hanging out at a bar in London and someone tried to talk to me I would be annoyed, suspicious and alarmed. Here, people strike up conversations all the time — in bars, on the subway, in stores. And they are just being amiable and friendly. People often now comment on my pregnancy and I get a lot of people saying ‘congratulations’ and asking me when I’m due. This is on the street and in restaurants and at the food store, which I really don’t think I’d get in London. Of course, when we first got here it took some getting used to (see: annoyed, suspicious, alarmed) but it’s now one of the things I enjoy so much about living here — those random, small connections with complete strangers.

Moving onto our friends. We’ve been completely overwhelmed with the amount of wonderful, funny, kind and hospitable people who have come into our lives. Within two weeks of starting my new job, I was at my colleague’s apartment drinking wine on her balcony, within two months we were staying with new friends at their house in Nantucket. We were invited to people’s homes, Fourth of July parties, Thanksgiving dinners, trips away and endless nights out. Such incredible kindness offered to two perfect strangers. When we arrived we knew no one, and now we leave so incredibly enriched by new friendships that mean the world to us. At one point during our going-away party I looked around at all the people who had come to see us off and couldn’t believe it. We’ve been truly blessed.

And now it’s almost time to leave. Last Christmas we went back home to see our family and when we got back we found out that I was, excitingly, pregnant. After months of conversations and going back and forth on decisions, we made our final, final, decision to move back home and have the baby. It’s been so hard but I do believe it’s the right choice. I’m happy that we’re leaving on a high and I’m so glad we’ve made the most out of this adventure. We’ve traveled across America and seen first-hand the beauty and diversity of the country. We’ve made a proper home here and have gone from feeling like we’re on holiday to it actually being real-life. We’ve changed in ourselves, and take back with us our experiences and new outlooks.

It’s the start of a brand new adventure and even though our daughter won’t be born here, we look forward to bringing her back in the near-future to introduce her to this place that we love.

(And to have a couple of those boozy brunches that New York does so well.)

Thank you, America, you’ve been great.