Yesterday, I saw a post from a woman I follow on Instagram who also lives in Spain. Her story is different from mine, but in other ways, our stories echo one another. Her kids are the same age as mine, and some of her family’s reasons for living abroad are similar to mine.
So, when I saw this post from her on Instagram yesterday, I was curious to flip through what she was going to confess.
Meg has built quite the following on Instagram, amassing nearly 80,000 followers. She posts pretty much every day, which is a commitment I could never make (and why I’ll never be an Instagram star). I enjoy reading what she has to say, often nodding along but sometimes shaking my head in disagreement.
In yesterday’s post, Meg shared 18 honest confessions about living in Spain (and yes, they were very honest).
Her Preference for Raising Her Kids in Europe vs. the U.S.
Meg says she has multiple reasons for preferring to raise her boys in Europe versus the United States, and I feel her on that. She loves the “safe, warm” feeling about life in Europe in general, and it “feels right.”
Same, girl. Same.
Spain and Europe aren’t perfect. No place is, but one of the things I love about raising my kids here is that I rarely worry about their safety.
My son is 13, and for nearly the last year, he’s been riding the tram to his jiu-jitsu class twice a week – by himself.
In the U.S., I would never consider allowing him to do that, and, if you’re from the U.S., you understand why I feel that way.
And I’ll go one further with my son’s jiu-jitsu example. For most of that time, he didn’t have cell phone service.
Just after his birthday in October, we finally relented and added cellular service with a phone number to the old phone he’s been using, so he was traveling across town twice a week with just an AirTag in his backpack (peace of mind for Mom and Dad to locate him in an emergency). Occasionally, we give him cash and tell him to stop at Taco Bell and treat himself after class before he comes home.
I frequently go out at midnight, sometimes later, to walk the dog one last time before bed. I never give it a second thought.
In Tennessee, I wouldn’t walk the dog past 10:00 P.M. even in our safe, suburban neighborhood.
These are just two examples of safety in Spain that have completely adjusted the independence we allow our kids to have, but it has also adjusted us.
Living in One Place Forever vs. Moving Abroad
Meg writes, “You may look at me like you wish you had done this experience with your kids, but sometimes I look at you and wish I had lived in one house, on the same block, forever.”
Oof.
My mom raised my siblings and me this way. As a child, we moved into the house I grew up in when I was six years old. It’s where we remained until I left home at almost 20.
My brother followed that pattern, starting his marriage in one home, eventually moving into a different house, but staying in the same area. My sister did as well.
And then you have me.
Will and I have moved a lot. In addition to the four house purchases, we’ve also lived in multiple apartments over the years, never able to stay in one place for long.
I’d like to say that’s been a mutual decision every time, but the truth is, I’m the provocateur.
A big part of me wishes I weren’t so restless – always seeking something but never quite knowing what it is. To my credit, when we had children, we decided to stay in the same general area of the Nashville suburbs, knowing our kids would need a sense of stability as they grew. After all, we weren’t moving for jobs or family. We moved because “Jen wanted to.”
Our kids attended the same elementary school from kindergarten through third and fifth grades, and then we moved to Spain.
What must it be like to be content with living on the same block forever?
My Choices vs. My Kids’ Futures
In her post, Meg worries that her life choices will affect her kids’ long-term futures.
What mom hasn’t worried about this?
Then again, most moms don’t move their families abroad.
My kids are missing out on some uniquely American experiences as they grow up in Valencia. Dances, homecoming, prom, football games … the list goes on.
Will and I didn’t grow up abroad. We both grew up in rural Kentucky, a place so vastly different from what we’re experiencing in Spain that it might as well have been another planet. We don’t have any reference points for what this means for our kids’ futures.
Will they choose to attend university in Europe? How will that shape their career paths? Will they have European spouses? Could it mean that because their lives are in Spain, ours are now tied to Europe as well?
They’re third-culture kids now, and I don’t yet understand what that means for their futures.
None of us has a crystal ball. I can’t predict how moving across the world at their ages will shape their lives. What I do know is that our choice to move to Spain has already altered their trajectory. Good, bad, complicated? I don’t know yet. Maybe I’m not supposed to.
If you liked this post, check out these:
What We Gave Up to Move to Spain
A year ago today, we landed in Raleigh, North Carolina, ready to begin the second stage of our international move from the U.S. to Spain.
