Reflecting on Memories of Growing up Far Far From Home!

As I have probably mentioned on occasion, I had an "unusual" childhood.

When I say unusual, what I mean is we were constantly traveling and moving even though we were not attached to the military which is more typically the case for people who are always on the move.

In our case, it was my father's job that always kept us on the move. It wasn't that he was forced to travel, it was that he chose to. As the managing director of a bottle cap factory, he was also a "crazy inventor" and so we would volunteer to go to different parts of the world where he would help bottling companies set up bottling equipment... thereby increasing the factory's business.

So we were basically based at our house in Denmark, but then we would shut everything down and move to France for 5 months; then we'd be back to Denmark for maybe 4 months or maybe a year, and then we'd be off to Kenya for 5 months, home again, off to Spain for 3 months, home again for a while; then off to the Netherlands for 7 months and so on and so forth. To say that we were Global Nomads would be a ridiculous understatement!

When I was very young, I wasn't really aware that our life was unusual at all. But as I aged somewhat and started to approach my grade school years, I've became more aware that other kids "lived in a neighborhood" where they were all the time and had the same friends for years and years... and that was just not part of my reality. It was also not part of my reality to know the same people at school, in the same classes. I was either homeschooled, or in and out of a vast array of schools in different locations and languages.

There was a time when I was somewhat angry with my parents for having done what I felt like was denied my the chance to have a childhood and a teenagehood. However, with the benefit of several decades of hindsight, I now look at it and simply accept that I had an unusual experience.

As is true with most of our lives, whatever happens to us is less important than how we process and deal with what happens to us. I didn't exactly have a choice in moving around all the time so I just kind of dealt with it as it came to me.

Life became slightly more stable after my parents divorced, and I went to live with my mom in the south of Spain... even though we were actually Danish. But she had made a connection with a retired Englishman who is living in the south of Spain and she determined that was where she wanted to live. And since she had custody of me, that's where I ended up living too!

What struck me most about spending my teenage years in Spain was the fact that we weren't really part of Spanish Spain. Where we lived was essentially a colony of non-Spanish nationals and the particular part of Spain where we lived had a lot of European expats most of whom were of retirement age.

And that was the second thing that made the experience somewhat unusual: most of the people around me were of retirement age and there were very few people of my own age. In fact, the international school I went to had about 120 students and that served about a 50 km stretch of coastline that was probably home to at least 40,000-50,000 Europeans of various origins. Tells you how few kids they had!

Whereas it often felt like a very lonely experience, one of the things I gained from it was my love of writing because that was always a great way for me to express experiences, my feelings and my thoughts. Another thing I really gained from it was the ability to peacefully entertain myself and introspect. I came into adulthood with a distinct feeling that I never would get antsy if there was nothing to do and no people around.

And I mean that quite separately from the fact that I'm also an introvert, and often seek solitude simply because too socializing tends to exhaust me.

Perhaps the lesson learned from the story — if there is a lesson to be learned — is that sometimes we just have to deal with the hand that we're dealt, perhaps because we have little choice in the matter. And getting angry about it won't necessarily improve matters, or change anything. We'd like to think that we have a choice and how we live our lives, but that comes with certain limitations... particularly when we're young.

Whereas there was a time — mostly in my twenties — when I really wished I could have changed how things were, I don't think I would do things any differently now, if I could go back and change them.

Thanks for stopping by, and have a great Friday!

How about you? Were there any aspects of your early life that were really unusual? Do you wish things had been different? Would you go back and change anything? Leave a comment if you feel so inclined — share your experiences — be part of the conversation!

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Created at 2024.02.29 23:59 PST
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