Posted in My book

Move on…

Have you ever felt like your life was just routine? Waking up in the morning, having a cup of coffee, going to work, doing your daily chores, going back home, doing some house-stuff, watching a movie and going to bed. Next day doing it all over again, until the “Holy-Weekend” came and passed-by in the blink of an eye. Basically living on the edge of what life should actually mean to a human being…

Well, I’ve had the feeling described above for a year, every single day. I felt trapped and I felt like I was in a cage from where I couldn’t escape… it felt like all the happiness, excitement and joy was slowly crawling out of my body and waving a sad goodbye in my face.

I saw it going away, but I couldn’t do much about it. Professionally and personally my life looked “not so good” and I couldn’t find the energy to actually get a grip on life and start living again.

Until… one day!

After looking for work for several months, and dreaming about travelling, moving somewhere or trying something new, an opportunity arose, out of nowhere. It was that life-changing moment, the one we get when our guardian angel decides to slap us in the face and show us they are not asleep anymore. 🙂

It was Mid-January 2013, and somehow, the ’13 part of it, made me believe that it should be a lucky year for me. The year of change and a better chance and the year for getting what I deserved, both professionally and personally.


First week after I’ve made the announcement to my family, friends and close-to-heart buddies, all I could hear was “are you sure?”, “how is your life gonna be there?”, “what will you eat?” (that’s from my grandma, in case you were wondering).

Second week, planning and looking for ways to fit 25 kg in a bag that looked too tiny for such a bit move. Luckily I managed to add another 20 kg to that, but still, it seemed it couldn’t be enough for everything I needed and wanted.

Third week, more planning, packing, re-thinking strategies and ways to shove everything in 2 bags. How can a woman put blouses, pants, shirts, skirts, tons of shoes, make-up, purses for specials occasions and last, but not least, books and jewelry in just TWO bags?

As time flew by, days seemed shorter, minutes felt like seconds and nights became sleepless and restless.

Some sort of adrenaline and excitement, combined with worries and the sadness seen on family member’s faces made it all so much more difficult to handle.

It was the idea of a move for a better life, a move for a better future, but will all the pros and cons and all the reactions and fears coming from loved ones, it seemed like my decision wasn’t the greatest.

Fourth week, I unpacked and re-packed everything at least 6 times. Maybe it was the feeling of loneliness, the panic that my family wasn’t going with me, or that my friends will forget about me.

Those 2 big bags looked like rocks around my neck, pulling me down and making me cry at night, without letting anybody see me, because I had made a decision that I had to go further with, and couldn’t change near the deadline.

Fifth week, the last before the big leave was full of visits, gifts, the warmest of hugs, the sweetest of kisses and the loveliest, heart-warming wishes from friends crying, family members being overly-sad, and parents sick with worries.

The BIG DAY… was sad. I won’t deny it. Everyone cried, even my dad and grandfather, and THEY NEVER CRY. That broke my heart and it’s engraved on my heart forever. They wanted to be strong for me, but they were all so used to having me around, that they couldn’t handle the fact that I was actually leaving the country.

Standing in line at the security check, after dropping my bags, felt like the longest wait in my entire life. It felt like the people in front of me had more than one belt to take off, more than a set of glasses, or keys, or phones, or stuff to put on the grey tray. It took forever for me to get to the check point.

The flight itself I don’t remember… it was such an eventful day, such a long wait, so many tears, and all the adrenaline, tiredness and somewhat-excitement made me sleep all the way through the nearly 3 hours flight.

Finally I’ve heard it, the announcement: “Dear passengers, we will start descending to Dublin airport shortly, please fasten your seat belts as we are undergoing through some turbulence”.

Dublin, my sweet escape, my future and my new life, right there, seen through that small airplane window. It looked amazing, and it smiled, the first smile from the city, as it was not covered with a lot of clouds, and the sun was kind of visible on the sky. I can still remember it. The most amazing landscape I’ve ever seen in my life.

The 31st of March, 2013, was the day I’ve first met Dublin. The day I knew I will always have two homes, two places close to my heart and two places I will always remember. Dublin and Timisoara are my homes…

– to be continued –



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