Homeless: Why Giving Calgary, Love of my Life, a Second Shot was Entirely Necessary

I suppose it's kind of difficult to explain why I wanted to move back to Calgary in 2010 without you all (or most of you, anyway) knowing why I loved it there in the first place. This is probably because I haven't shared my coming-of-age story of the years 2006-7 with you yet, so let me break down the basics for you:

• I lived by myself for the first time.
• For the first time, I worked at a job I loved (and many I hated).
• I met three people who would invariably change the course of my life.
• It's when I caught the "dream big" bug.

Background: I hated Germany the first time I visited in 2004. Okay. Maybe hate is not the right word. I was okay with it, but I was desperately homesick, even though our vacation was only for three weeks. When we touched down back in Canada, though, I saw the world I lived in through new eyes, and I wasn't entirely fond of what I saw. It sure wasn't an immediate plan of mine, but I knew I wanted to go back to Germany. It was a gut thing.

Like it always does, life got in the way. After finishing college, I moved to Calgary and loved it. The best way to describe my "decision" to leave Calgary in 2007 is that it was premature. I was at the end of my rope and was 99% I'd never be able to make ends meet in a way that I could continue my life there. So, I went back home, gave up and hated it rather than actually trying to tough it out and possibly fail doing so.

I figured then it was just as good a time as any to move to Krautland. I had originally wanted to do my BA (in German and French, what a joke) and then move over, but I had put off university for so long -- what was another year or two?

So I came.

And all the while, I wondered if I had made the right decision. The move to come to Germany for a year was looking more and more permanent, and I was in a panic. Every time I went back home on vacation, I felt the pull getting stronger and stronger. I didn't want to be in Germany any more, I wanted to be home in an environment I knew and trusted with people I knew and trusted.

Most importantly, though, the whole prematurely leaving Calgary thing was eating me away. When I first moved away and back to my dad's in 2007, every time I would go back to spend time with an ex and my bestie, the fact I was away from Calgary would crush me. I spent as much time in Calgary/on the QE2 as I did at home. When I went back on visits from Germany, I'd spend as much time in Calgary as possible, wanting little more to be stuck on Crowchild in rush hour (a quick perusal through Toytown will introduce you to the fact many expatriates run around with rose-coloured glasses permanently glued to their faces).

DID YOU MAKE THE RIGHT CHOICE?? DID YOU??

Despite the fact I'm one to normally make quick decisions, I rarely regret them. In fact, this is really the only one I've ever, really regretted. And it ate me alive. I do not do well with regret.

I was back home in November 2009. And it was then I decided to give Calgary another shot. Not because I was sure I'd actually be happy there, but because I needed to know if I'd missed anything.

Typical rookie expatriate mistake (and an expensive one, at that), but it was worth absolutely everything.

(I am also the kind of person who handles bad news significantly better than no news.)

It was the question that tormented me for three years that I needed answered, and asking it (even though the answer ended up being the one I wanted least) was the smartest decision I've ever made.

In all honesty, it was also kind of interesting reliving history in a way, though it was more like "My History -- The Depressing Version".

• I found my feet again with the official status of "Person Living Alone".
• I worked at a job I loved.
• Those three people who invariably changed my life the first time did not fail in solidifying their places as three of the most important people I've ever come into contact with.
• I caught the "dream bigger" bug.

Obviously, it didn't work out and I left. Again. I miss it there and I miss spending time with those three people. I do wish it had turned out differently. With all my soul, I've never wished anything so much. But, alas, that's the way it turns out sometimes, and even though I was unsuccessful in rectifying my mistakes (if that's ever even possible), giving things a fair chance was a good choice.

It also highlighted the difference a location can make on my general life feelings, and the fact if I don't love the city I'm in, I'll be a miserable wench. (See my weekly ramblings on this blog for examples *ahem*.)