We’re in that really weird spot again in this military life where we know we’re going to move. We know when we’re going to move. We just don’t know where yet. We know where we want to go and, as this is our last military move (Ryan retires in less than four years), we’re all in. Living in Alaska hasn’t been easy for our little family, and we’ve faced a lot of unique challenges here. The biggest one though is something people don’t really tell you about. Nobody talks about what it’s like moving back to the USA after living abroad…and how much it changes you.
Moving Back “Home”
When we made the decision not to try to extend our time in South Korea, we did so for a few reasons. Ryan lost both his parents whilst we were overseas. We knew losing a family member while abroad was always a possibility, but it hit us harder than we’d expected. Our first 13 months in Korea were also marked by significant Covid-related challenges. Those restrictions began to ease up the latter half of our time there, and we began to explore more and more. We thought we were ready for another stateside adventure.
Moving to Alaska offered us that adventure and more. It offered us a challenge unlike anything we’d ever experienced before – but mostly because, for the first time in this entire Army life together, we found ourselves homesick…for a foreign country that, for better or worse, became our home. So, in coming back to the US (and only once we’d realized “crap, this is for real”), we’d left our real home back in Asia.
What It’s Like Moving Back to the USA After Living Abroad
There was obviously a culture shock when we moved to South Korea, but did you know that that same culture shock exists coming back? People in the US seem louder and more aggressive. All the little things we experienced and loved in South Korea were suddenly in glaring contrast to what we have in the US. As we traveled across the USA and then the AlCan, we realized that America is enormous, but it’s not without it’s flaws. Cities are dirtier. People seem angrier. We have all this space, and yet we always want more.
Moving back to the US felt like an absolute slap in the face. We were robbed our first night in Fairbanks, Alaska. I routinely left my purse in the car in Korea, and it was never touched. People pushed people’s cars out of the way. Our children were beloved – and not just our children – all children. In the US, I’m consistently reminded to calm my kids, quiet my kids, make my kids seem smaller. Nobody tells you that the daily grind just feels different. Going to the store feels different. Buying clothes feels different. School feels different. Everything feels different. Harder. Louder. Colder (and not just because we’re in Alaska). It feels foreign here.
Home Doesn’t Always Look the Same
Nobody tells you that home doesn’t have to be where you grew up. You can plant roots and bloom somewhere else. Our family thrived in South Korea. The kids thrived. Mieke was so happy in her little Korean bubble, and the boys thrived in homeschool and adventuring. We traveled, and we explored, and we found a community in which we bloomed.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time as a military spouse, it’s that you can make the most of every duty station, and we have. We’ve met the most amazing people and seen some of the most spectacular places. We’ve explored, and we’ve savored every single experience along the way. And, somewhere along the way, we did find home. Just somewhere else. So, if you’re asking where we’re going next year, we don’t know yet – and we won’t know for quite some time. But I can tell you this – it’s absolutely possible to leave your heart and your home in another country.