Expat life cuts away the superfluous distractions of familiarity and leaves you naked and vulnerable. This stripping away of my previous life was my central reason for embarking on this adventure. You don’t stretch and grow as a soul by doing the same things over and over, but change is never easy. In this blog, I’d like to explore an existential problem of being human: how we fit into this world, especially as we adjust to a new part of the world as our home.

Belonging to a Country

As a former U.S. resident, I am more accustomed to diversity than I realized. In Northern Ecuador, with my pale skin and light hair, I stand out. And my customs and life experiences contrast with Ecuadorians’ even more than my complexion. I feel like an overripe peach in a barrel of beautiful walnuts. I want so desperately to belong to this country, to this culture, to this land.

I am connected to the mountains, volcanoes, rivers, trees, sun, and wind. The people have taken me in graciously. And this month I finally received my cedula (national ID) and temporary resident visa.

But I don’t feel that I truly belong here yet.

My friend Muniqui Muhammad, co-owner of Healing Land Reiki, is a black man from Phoenix who has lived in Japan for 20 years. He called to check on me and my expat life and told me, “Karen, you’re never going to fit in completely. You’ll never truly belong. Get that out of your head.” I know he’s right. If you’re white and blonde in a sea of Latinx or tall and black among short Asians, you’re going to stand out. So I’m going to embrace that.

Come to think of it, I never felt at home in the United States either. Or anywhere in the world for that matter (except maybe Ireland or Scotland). I was always “too sensitive,” “too liberal,” “too hot-natured,” or “too smart,” or “too stupid.” I’m sure I’m not alone. So many of us have struggled with “fitting in.”

But being different can be a blessing. As an expat, I can offer a different perspective to my Ecuadorian friends. I can see the beauty that they take for granted every day: clean air, close-knit communities, fresh food, simpler lives, colorful clothing, lively music, and interesting customs.

Belonging to a Family

Margaret Mead wrote, “One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don’t come home at night.” When I first read that sentence, I choked up. I don’t have someone to wonder where I am–except my cats. And I’m so grateful for them. They truly make my condo a home and give me such comfort. They wonder where I am and wait for me to come home. It’s not the same as a spouse or child, but for now it’s enough.

Maybe part of my longing to belong has to do with family. I’m far from my brother, son, and stepfather. But even when I lived within a three-hour drive from them, I hardly saw or talked at length with them. Ironically, I talk with them more now through video chat. In the U.S., we’re consumed with consumerism and work, leaving little time for catching up with family.

Family in Ecuador is different. As I mentioned in my first blog, this culture is one of the most communal in the world whereas the U.S. is one of the most individualistic. So many of my Ecuadorian friends find it incredible that I live here alone.

My Reiki friend from Las Vegas is moving here in October, and he will live alone, too. My first Ecuadorian friend and my taxi driver, Rubén, questioned me: “So you’re going to live with Jay when his house is finished?”

“No.”

“Jay is going to live with you?”

“No. We are each going to live alone. I like to live alone. I’ve been living alone for six years.”

Rubén just shook his head. I can understand how strange it seems for Ecuadorians.

Actually, the longer I live here, I understand how strange American individualism seems for most of the world. I’m beginning to question it myself. As an empath, highly sensitive person, and Projector in the Human Design system, I’m beginning to understand how important it is to have my time alone to decompress and clear my energy. But that doesn’t mean that I have to live alone all the rest of my life. I’m open to belonging to a new family eventually, perhaps in a new way.

Belonging to the Human Race

In spite of our urge to connect, it’s okay not to belong anywhere. In this untethered state, we may find it easier to belong everywhere. By detaching from my own culture and not seeking to belong wholly to another, I can find freedom to belong to something bigger, something higher. Maybe we all need a broader perspective.

Being an expat forces you to look for commonalities. You have to seek what you share with other humans. The language is different. We don’t come from the same places of privilege. Our foods and customs are different. But do we get lonely? Do we feel pain? Do we love our children? Do we laugh? Do we cry? At this point in human history, we must learn to see that all beings (not just humans) have the common goal of living a fulfilling life.

We are all diverse human beings in the ecosystem of Earth. To be an expat, I need to consider myself not an invasive species from another continent, but a slightly different variation of human who has come to live and evolve among her slightly different cousins. I am one of Darwin’s finches. I am here to adapt and survive, which is a type of belonging. I am not here to force my culture on Ecuadorians. I am here to learn from this land and these people, to acclimate and conform as best as I can. In the process, I am discovering new aspects of myself: a curious, brave woman embracing her vulnerability and letting Life carry her for a change.

Belonging to Myself

For the first time in my life, I’m learning to be comfortable simply being with myself. So many of us fill that gaping void of loneliness with bad relationships, food, alcohol, drugs, work–anything to distract us from the raw pain that keeps us company as the negative voices in our heads berate us.

Perhaps my reward for living sixty years on this planet is finally allowing myself to slip comfortably into my own skin, claiming my Authentic Self, and surrounding myself with the love of my own heart. I can feel my self-love expanding like the clouds embracing the mountains.

I belong here. I belong everywhere–wherever love remains in my heart.