Was it Worth Moving to Spain?

 Welcome back to another blog of mine! This blog today is going to focus on my moving experience and my honest opinion on what it is really like living in Spain as a youngster.

Spain. The place where you imagine lying on a sandy white beach; sipping Sangria and eating Paella in a tapas bar on a hot sunny day. You imagine the locals to be friendly and sensual in their ways and the natives to be very ''manana''. However this not the ''total truth''

I made the move three years ago; though I pretend to some because I feel guilty for not knowing the language as well as I should by now (I am taking lessons) I've lived here for two years.

The number one question I always get asked ''what made you move?''. To be honest it was my parent's decision. According to my Mum, they had been deciding whether to move for the past 10 years; but never seemed the right time. There was a time when their decision was final about moving it was around 6 years ago (I was a teenager) they felt this was a good time because I was still young enough to pick up the language really well and I would have integrated easier by being put into a school but my Nan died and my Grandad came to live with us. By this point, they didn't think it was fair to take me out of my education when I was far integrated with everything I always knew.

Each year began to feel like it wasn't the right time because I was still in education going from school to college. Their decision about moving was decided when I left college with my A LEVELS and we needed to move out of our house as their mortgage was up.

It was a strange time because my Mum had mentioned it repeatedly to me over the years but I began to feel like it was more of a dream rather than a reality. I was more interested in boys and my friends to really care.

Then suddenly it all came about really quickly. I was around 17; the house had been on sale for six months with no luck of a purchaser; then bam a couple from Essex saw the house and fell in love and the rest was history. At one point it all nearly fell through. Then suddenly it came so quickly that we had no time to really take in how big this move was going to be.

I had just turned 18. I was out clubbing a lot with my friends trying to make the most of the memories we could share before I left. Looking back I hadn't realized quite how big of a change this was going to be in my life. I just kinda rolled with it until we got on that ship to our new home.

The process before moving was crazy. One minute I was sleeping in the family house that I had known ALL my life and then the next we were basically kicked out. We hadn't even bought a house yet at this point. We sold all of our furniture and the only stuff we had fitted all in my Dad's van.

When we had to move out; we went on a holiday to the Hondon Valleys with my uncle, his wife, and my aunt (God rest her soul) we stayed in this villa for two weeks and found our dream home. In ways looking back instead of focusing on the potential of what this house looked we probably should have moved to a house closer to the city but having over 2000 square meters of land and a huge swimming pool does have its perks.

Once decided the move came a couple of weeks after. When returning home (UK) we stayed for 1 week in hastings in a camper van that was the couple who now owned our house. Then after a week very spontaneously we booked a holiday to Alicante and stayed there for 10 days before returning home for a few days and getting on a ship from Southhampton - Bilbao and then driving through Spain until we reached Crevillente.

As we returned home- I made sure to spend some needed and important quality time with my best friends - where we had a massive blowout and leaving meal. It was bittersweet I suppose but I didn't really feel any different. I don't think the move sunk in.

When we moved we were so busy with things. My family came out and helped us unpack. The house was very traditionally Spanish so it needed a lot of work doing thereby we were busy doing a lot stuff.

To begin with it all felt surreal - it was almost like being on a holiday 24/7 but one day around two months in I started to feel really homesick.

Nobody tells you that when you move to a new country (even to one that speaks your language) you miss the simplicity of home comforts like knowing where the local corner shop is near your house.

The thing I generally found the most difficult to bear in the first few months was watching my friends getting on with their lives; whilst I found myself starting to stagnate. I also met a guy in England at the time and I didn't understand how difficult a long-distance relationship could be which I think contributed massively to my home sickness because I was seeing him constantly going out with his friends whilst I was back here missing mine.

Moving to a different country at that point in my life was difficult. People say being 18 is a perfect time to move abroad but the reality is that it is difficult. Your starting to find yourself at that age and being thrown into a country with a different culture is tough.

You underestimate how important school is for social life. The majority of my friends came from people I met in school who you would see everyday. Being 18 and moving abroad you don't find friends that easy. It is especially tough when you have a language barrier in your way.

For me the biggest thing I learnt about myself was to question how far would I go to get out of my comfort zone? I had to go out and make friends, I had to go out and look for a job, I had to go out and try to experience the new culture around me. To begin with it was tough; I went through a rollercoaster of emotions however like they say ''eventually you get over sickness'' and this is a true statement.

A vivid memory for me was in the August I went home for a family wedding. I was really excited however I wasn't as excited as my previous visits home since my move. I began to actually miss my new country. This was a turning point in my life; I felt finally I could consider this new place my home.

Everything began to take shape and form after this. I started to integrate more. I started to meet friends, I started to embrace the culture and I even found a job.

As the years have gone on the more I've realised that I am actually better suited to this way of living and I am content in my life. I have learnt that you need to push yourself out of every comfort you know and go out there and get it.

Am I saying this is the place for me forever? NO.

Am I saying this way of living is better than the UK? Depends on the person

Am I saying that I have done the best I could? NO there is much more pushing to go.

However, my main realisation was that living in your hometown for the rest of your life really doesn't push you to be better. People get stuck in the cycle that they have always known and are FAMILAR with. I realised that living in what I knew made my mind very fixed and closed minded. I recommend everybody to experience a new town, city or country. It is really tough to begin with and anybody to tell you otherwise is lying but as they say there is always a light at the end of the tunnel.

Erin