I have realised that I have missed a very important date. On the 10th of August it was exactly a year since I came to Cambridge. Time for some reflections. How has it been? What have I learned?
Now I think I can admit - to myself and to everybody: it hasn't been easy. The understatement of the year. The first months were agony. I knew there was no way back, and it was all my own fault, and some days I was so desperate that... that what? Just desperate. And while Staffan was happily exploring the pubs and the supermarkets, I was learning a new language, the new language of this new place, the ways and habits, the dos and donts, walking on the edge all the time. Many thanks to all the wonderful people who supported me, perhaps even unknowingly. Many thanks to Staffan, without whom... what? Many thanks to people back in the old country who, I think, believed in me. I couldn't let them down, could I?
Things got better soon. I started feeling more confident at work, learned the jargon and the abbreviations, made more friends, found my way to the dining hall. I think that moving into this house was a turning point. Maybe it just coincided with everything else that started getting better.
Looking back, I wonder why I was so unhappy. Or maybe I wasn't unhappy, just anxious and apprehensive. Maybe it was normal. Some people kept telling me it was normal. It doesn't feel better because you know it is normal.
Today I can without reservation say that I am absolutely happy. Is it normal?
"Rena känslosås" - sorry, I cannot find an adequate translation into English.