Going it Alone

On top of the Andes in Mendoza, Argentina: 2009

I'm settling in on the couch with a glass of organic tinto and some dim lighting for this one, because I'm planning on getting a little more personal than usual and need the atmosphere to work with me a bit. I generally try to stay away from divulging too much about my private life here on the old blog, because, well, it seems a bit self-indulgent and narcissistic for one, and two, this blog is public so who knows who's reading it. But I know it makes things interesting and can be cathartic and what not, so here goes.

The weekly market in Lannion, France: 2007

When I first got to Berlin and people asked why I moved here, some would frame it as a question for which they suggested a possible answer. "Oh, so you're studying here?" or "You're teaching English, right?" were both popular, but the most common was actually, "Ah, so is there a guy over here?" One or two people even deigned to ask if I had left the US because of a guy. (I should add that these guesses came from people who didn't know about my German family/language/passport situation, all which make a 26 year old American girl moving to Berlin on a whim by herself without a job somewhat less surprising.)

Who needs a boyfriend when you have Italian statues? Parma: 2006

Not only did a guy not influence my decision to leave the US nor to choose Berlin, but no guy has factored into my life planning for quite some time. As of some day in the upcoming two weeks - I've forgotten the exact date - I will have been sans boyfriend for three years. There was some dating and a few flings here and there, but nothing even approaching serious. I've become the epitome of the single 20 something girl, the one who eats eggs or pasta for dinner in bed while watching Gossip Girl and Downton Abbey. The one who leaves clothes strewn about on the chair all week because it's unlikely anyone will see it. The one who had to race into the bathroom and shave her legs one night while an unexpected suitor waited patiently in the living room, à la Michelle Pfeiffer in "One Fine Day." Fortunately my suitor had not fallen asleep by the time I resurfaced. Unfortunately my suitor was not George Clooney. Maybe I should stop drinking this wine and rein it in a little.

Also not reining it in, Tuebingen: 2006

So no, I didn't move to Berlin for a boyfriend, and haven't found any serious contenders for the position in my almost 1.5 years here yet. But wanting or not wanting a boyfriend was not really the point of this post. The point is, I have watched, half-enviously and half-satisfactorily, as people I know in couples lead similar lives to mine: that is, do the moving abroad, traveling, teaching English to move abroad and travel thing. I am somewhat fascinated by this idea, because I've never had it. "It" meaning the partner to travel and live abroad with, not "it" the great boyfriend, because those I have had. But my international adventures have been overwhelmingly solo ones. Sure, I've traveled and stayed with friends in a lot of places and had plenty of help along the way. But no one was with me when I was lumbering onto the train to Tuebingen with two suitcases, registering for Spanish classes in Buenos Aires, traveling on a night bus to Mendoza, apartment searching in Lannion, battling the border control at the Chunnel from Paris to London, or facing the bureaucrats at the Bezirksamt or Zollamt in Berlin.

One of my first nights in Berlin: 2011

And it's not just those big things: the travel itself, the paperwork acquiring, the apartment assembly, etc. A lot of major and minor life moments happened to me the first time while abroad: eating dinner alone in a restaurant, going to a movie by myself, figuring out how to read a map, learning to cook a proper meal, scraping by on very minimal language skills when an entire group of people relied on me at a cafe. Of course it would have been nice (more than nice, sometimes) to do these things with a partner. But I can't imagine I would have experienced the same leaps of growth, independence, and self-confidence if that had been the case.

Brunch in Tel Aviv: 2012

Of course if the right guy (or even "a right" guy) happens to pop up at my door anytime soon, I certainly won't turn him away. I look forward to finding someone who shares this interest and lifestyle and who I can explore places in the future with, and I have no doubt I'll find him eventually. But in the meantime, I'm happy to enjoy my somewhat crazy, occasionally scary, but extraordinarily fun and exciting life on my own.