On a more positive note (I should add that despite some of my more recent posts, positive things have been happening!), I’ve been offered a job abroad. On a recent trip at the beginning of the year, I chapped some doors (with the help of a contact) and got talking to a few organisations. The trip wasn’t made with this specifically in mind but it’s a country where I’ve always wanted to live so I thought: you don’t ask, you don’t get.
Sometimes to make a change, you need to take risks. This move will be my first out of my home country, it involves me giving up my job here and doesn’t guarantee me a long term job there. I’ve been ten years working a job in the field I studied, I know it like the back of my hand. The job I will be starting will be my first in that field. I undertook a teaching qualification a year ago, more to boost my confidence which had been badly shattered after the divorce, to try to force me out my comfort zone and meet new people. It was probably one of the best things I did. Not only did I love the course but I seemed to be quite good at it, gaining the top grade in the year. I enjoyed it so much that I pursued it further and it opened up doors.
Gong abroad feels important to me. Before I got married, I had big plans to travel. Not just a wee holiday here and there but to really live somewhere new, soak up different cultures and broaden my mind. Before I managed to put any plan in place, my ex came along, marriage happened and I convinced myself that I had made a sacrifice for someone else.
Now, I have no responsibilities and the timing just feels right. If I don’t do it now then I never will. If I hate it then I’ll come back. But I need to know that I tried.