Written by Katie Sweeney
When we officially said yes to a two-year international assignment in the Netherlands with my husband’s company, my first thought was what living as expats would mean for our daughter. I worried about how she would deal with leaving behind everything she’d known during her three years of life. At the same time, I was thrilled about new friends, new experiences and maybe even her first long-term memories.
Breathing Instructions for Trailing Spouse
During pre-flight safety instructions, flight attendants remind parents to put on their breathing masks first, then tend to the child. But how often do we ‘put on our own mask first’ in everyday life? Consumed with pre-move preparations, I barely thought about what two years abroad would mean for me.
I figured that as long as I had a language translator tool, Wi-Fi connection, and a long-distance run to train for, I’d be fine in our new country. I felt grateful and privileged to maintain a part-time freelance writing schedule to balance my husband’s frequent work travel. I thought I’d even take a stab at fleshing out the character I’d had tapping at the back of my brain for a few years. World Mamas, I see you shaking your heads, I do.
While researching logistics and completing paperwork, I learned about the “Trailing Spouse,” the cringeworthy term describing the partner of the person whose job initiates a transfer. As much as the phrase made me recoil, I had to admit that it did describe how I felt as we embarked on our family adventure abroad.
As we packed up our home in Philadelphia, separating boxes for storage and filling suitcases of things to bring along to our furnished rental home, my pile was the smallest. My essentials were my computer and phone (obvi), running clothes, four identical pairs of my beloved Brooks Ravennas, and my dental retainer. My wardrobe was a minimalists’ rotation of stretchy pants and t-shirts for my new work-from-home part-time freelance writing focus. I optimistically threw in a few dresses and skirts.
My husband took off for his first work trip the day after we settled into our new home in the Netherlands. His quick departure pushed this Trailing Spouse to blaze her own trail.
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An Expat Mom’s First Mission: The Playground
Our first mission was to explore our local playgrounds. We have three small play areas within walking distance that we’d rotate before we began branching out on our bike. If there were other children, I’d encourage my daughter to go say hello, make a new friend. She’d cling hard to my leg. I didn’t blame her.
Our first few weeks were a blur of adjustment. We learned by doing, and mostly by failing. Not pressing the bike lane light or weighing produce correctly at the market. Not swiping the transit card on the way off the bus or off the train. Not having the right documents for our government ID cards. Whoops, forgot coins to use a public toilet. We mastered the Dutch phrases for ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘do you speak English,’ and ‘excuse me.’
Our daughter watched everything. She saw us make mistakes and try again.
A Vibrant Community of Expats
Our daughter’s world opened once she started part-time at an international daycare. And so did mine. While she was in school learning Dutch and fine motor skills, I could knock out freelance deadlines or get to know my new town by running through it. Doing both by myself got old quickly, so I set out to make friends any way possible.
This city we live in has a vibrant community of outsiders. Very much like our family, people who are here for a short time, but also those who have emigrated permanently. The Facebook groups for expats and for mothers have become my lifelines amidst the choppy waves of adjusting to daily life in a new culture. I met writers, and runners, and people who meet weekly at a bar to practice their newly acquired Dutch language skills. It made me think about the silos of communities back in Philadelphia where I could count the number of expats or immigrants I knew on one hand.
Making new friends as adults is hard. Add in the complications of a child’s schedule – naps, hunger, boredom – and finding a new friend is like striking gold. Gold that doesn’t mind an unfinished conversation and meeting at coffee shops that serve finger foods. The first friend I made here came to my rescue during my first trip to the grocery store. Having moved here from South Africa just a year before I did, she no doubt recognized the panic on my face during my interaction with the cashier. She is gold.
One Year in: Buying a house in The Netherlands?
We’ve lived in the Netherlands a year now, and we all still make mistakes, though there are fewer and less likely to keep me awake at night. Our daughter has made new friends and picked up an extraordinary amount of Dutch. We’ve made new friends and learned just a little bit of Dutch. She beams with pride when I ask for help with a Dutch phrase, and she asks to go for a “family run” some nights after dinner.
It’s strange to think that we’re already halfway through our time living in the Netherlands when it feels like we’re only starting to find our way, and our people. While our lives and plans for 2019 are very much in limbo, quite a few of the families we’ve gotten to know have bought houses with the help of mortgage advice for expats. Our friends went from renters to homeowners, securing expat mortgages and solidifying their commitment to Dutch life.
It’s exciting to watch these friends dig in and put down roots in a community they know they’ll be part of for years to come. And even though I could picture our family living in a dream house with tall windows and a beautiful Delft blue Dutch door for years, my husband’s job will keep us on the move for the little bit longer. Wherever we land in 2019, at least we’ll have friends to visit here in the Netherlands for years. And we’ll probably be passing along plenty of toys and knickknacks to them before we leave.
The Power of Resilience
Now that our daughter has turned four, she’ll start school this fall on a regular five-day schedule. She’s thrilled about going with her ‘best friend’, a girl from daycare who moved from her own native country a month before we arrived.
In all the things I wished for my daughter from our experience as expats, I didn’t expect what she would learn by watching me put on my own mask first: resilience.
Katie Sweeney is an American freelance writer, currently living in and working from the Netherlands. Follow her adventures and observations abroad via Instagram and Twitter
This was a wonderful read, Katie – you’re a really skilled writer and truly captured the Philly life in Holland!