Anonymous asked: why did you decide ultimately to move to berlin?
There were a lot of reasons, some of which I outlined in this post:
By next fall, I will have been in Boston for seven years, three longer than I originally anticipated when I first arrived for college. I think Berlin will be a fantastic opportunity, not just because it’s an interesting place in itself and easy to travel from, but also because I don’t want to end up in New York, which would make a fine end destination, but is so familiar at the moment that it feels stifling. I want a roomy kind of life: physical room for an office/studio but also room for me to grow and learn. I believe I’ll be able to do that best by leaving the Northeast, where there’s a shortage of space in both the literal and figurative sense.
Patrick wants to return to Germany (albeit not permanently) and at first, I assumed I would never do something as drastic as moving to a foreign country if it were up to me alone. Now, I sort of wonder how much my boyfriend really factors into this decision. Because the thing is, Boston is done for me and I may still be here for him, but when I leave, it will be every bit as much for myself. Recently, I was entertaining a series of “What if …?” questions, and I realized that if we broke up tomorrow, I’d be perfectly happy moving to Berlin anyway. In fact, I’d probably move to Berlin before I moved to, say, New York. (It’s always New York, isn’t it?) I like the idea of starting fresh, of anonymity, and of self-reliance. And I like Berlin.
I’ve been thinking about hypotheticals a lot these days, probably because I’m not actually all that happy with the here and now. I wish there were a way for me to be around everyone I love without feeling so stifled. Human relationships are both blessings and burdens. It’s terrifying to be held accountable for someone else’s feelings and infuriating when someone denies culpability in influencing yours. I think in some ways, my leaving the country is an attempt to keep a distance from those I love lest they disappoint me, to avoid becoming resentful of things I can’t change, to let myself live a life in which I am beholden to nothing and no one.
It’s a running joke among my friends that I am far too emotionally dependent on others, too attached and devoted to the people and places I love, too settled now that I am coming up on the fourth anniversary of my relationship. But then I think of all the weekends I spent in college running away from Harvard to ride alone on buses and sleep on strangers’ couches and I think of my implicit agreement with Patrick to never marry or have kids and I think of how easy it would be to buy a one-way flight, to take this blog offline, to turn on, tune in, and drop out and I wonder how accurate their characterization of me really is. Maybe it’s them who are overly invested in the bonds of the day-to-day, and me who is all-too-ready to leave it behind.
For me, deciding to move to Berlin was like seizing life by the collar and taking control of my happiness. I am not, at the moment, what I would call “happy” but I’m pretty certain I’m on my way there, and this sense of direction, this certainty that something good is on the horizon, is something that I had long assumed I’d forgotten.
Taken in Germany in the winter of 2010. Not Berlin, but close enough.
More burning questions? Ask Lena.
