
This month three years ago, we arrived in Sweden to start a new life. This should be an ‘anniversary’, but I just can’t help thinking, what is there to celebrate? That we… survive?
It’s been three years of living in Sweden, and I have mixed feelings about this. In some ways, things are good. I have a job I truly enjoy, we have our own place, we’re close to nature. But in other ways, it’s not all rainbows and unicorns, and I don’t know how to write it here without being overly negative. I read through my journal the other day, and reading it actually made me sad. It was like reading a teen’s diary. A lot of angst, rage, and moments of despair.
Maybe I’ll write about it someday, when I’ve had a few years to process it or when I’ve come out on the other side. For now, all I can say is it feels like the longest three years, and I don’t have clear memories of things that have happened since we moved here.


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