The Slow Drift Toward Home

People who left in a hurry sometimes described regret, not about leaving but about the way.

By Neil Solomon · 3 min read

Picture a couple named Carla and Edwin. They have lived abroad for two years. Nothing has gone wrong. On a Thursday, Edwin finds himself reading the weather report from his old hometown, and he does not mention it. Carla, the same week, catches herself looking at flights for a wedding that is eight months away. Neither says anything. Both are leaning.

I think this is how most decisions about leaving begin. Not with a crisis, but with a lean.

How it reads in different places

These are my readings of what people describe, not facts about the places.

Costa Rica. One person wrote about leaving and said it was "not always pura vida." The tone was disillusioned, but not bitter. The phrase suggests the postcard version and the daily version had grown apart.

Panama. A writer there said they were ready for "the good old American life." The feeling was bittersweet. They did not say Panama had failed. They said they missed something familiar, and that the missing had become louder than the liking.

Guatemala. Two accounts of the same story describe someone who came for three months and, ten years later, was still there. The feeling was conflicted. A town can feel like it will not let you go, and that can be both warmth and a trap. The writer mentioned things like fireworks at four in the morning, which tells me the love and the irritation lived side by side.

Brazil. A retiree asked the hardest question: when do you know it is time to go home? The feeling was dread. I read dread here as the fear of choosing wrong in either direction.

Colombia. Two accounts. One person spent two years and was ready to blend in again, weary of being the one who stands out. Another loved renting in the Cali area and was glad to leave. I find that second sentence wonderful. You can love a place and be glad to leave it. Both can be true.

A short exchange

Carla and Edwin, at last, on a Sunday.

"I have been looking at flights," Carla says.

"I have been reading the weather," says Edwin.

They laugh for a long time.

What I make of it

The signs people mention are small. Weariness with explaining yourself. A pull toward a familiar routine. An event back home that you want to attend in person. A feeling that you are getting through the days instead of enjoying them.

What interests me is that none of these signs is a verdict on the place. The same person can say the place was good and the time to leave has come. I think we sometimes treat leaving as a failure and staying as a success. The accounts do not support that. Some people stay ten years and are glad. Others leave at two and are glad.

I also notice that people who left well often did so with a plan to keep a thread: visits, friends, a return. People who left in a hurry sometimes described regret, not about leaving but about the way.

One idea that helps me is to separate the lean from the leap. A lean is information. You do not have to act on it today. You could note it, wait a season, and see whether it grows.