Hi friends, and welcome to Mamamia’s Open Post.
If you’re a bit new around here, welcome. This is the safe space on Mamamia where we all talk about our weeks. It’s Wednesday, which means we’re two days away from Friday — and sometimes you just need that moment to stop and reflect on your week so far.
Me first.
Last weekend, my partner in crime, sister-from-another-mister, soulmate and best friend came to visit me in Sydney. Christina and I have known each other for many, many years now; and have shared everything along the way – houses, heartaches, and hundreds of bottles of wine.
Alas, there was no wine this weekend as Christina is six months pregnant.
The last time I saw her, baby peanut (as I have so graciously dubbed the baby) was just a tiny bump, easily passed off as a burrito or an overzealous session at the Belgian Beer Cafe.
Well, there’s no mistake now – she’s well and truly preggers. And for every glorious, belly-patting moments of happiness we shared last weekend, I couldn’t shake a feeling of being really blue. My best friend was experiencing the most exciting period of her life, and I wasn’t there to share it.
I left my hometown when I was barely 18, fleeing suburban Brisbane for the bright lights of Melbourne.
It was as far as I could get from home without needing a visa, and felt like another world. I was ready to shake off who I was and become somebody new – so there I stayed until just two years ago, when I scratched those itchy feet once more and shipped up north to sunny Sydney.
And yet it was not until now that I have felt such a strong pang of sadness for the home I left behind. Sure, I miss my family, but it’s been so long since I’ve lived near to them that I almost can’t imagine anything different. It’s the rawness, the newness of leaving my adopted home of Melbourne that has made this sense of distance so very painful.
I hate the fact I’m not around to veg out on the couch with my best bud, gorging ourselves on junk food and looking up ex boyfriends on Instagram. I hate that we can’t go shopping together for teeny tiny baby clothes, or decorate the baby’s room, or go to an ultrasound.
In a shitty turn of events, I’ll be missing the baby shower at the end of next month, too, as I am overseas. When I found out I would miss it, I made a silent promise to myself: never let life get in the way of what’s truly important ever again.
While I won’t ever promise to give up my globe-trotting sense of adventure (I’ll always love the thrill of new cities) I am now equipped with a new, mature feeling: missing home.
And you know what? That’s kinda a nice thing to have.
Have you moved cities and left behind close friends? How do you feel about leaving that behind?
For more posts like this…
Wendy Squires on true friendship. Just trust us and listen.