I stepped off a plane into the summer heat of Casablanca, Morocco with my two boys (3 and 5 years old). It was August of 1997. My boss and his welcome committee all ended up on vacation the week we arrived. 

“That’s ok, we can do this!”

We were excited for the adventure before us and easily sloughed off getting lost in a taxi with no cell phone. We didn’t get outwardly frustrated trying to find food in a store where we couldn’t read the labels. Even trying to find our own housing with no native English speaker to help was ok . . . for about a month. 

We started off with the honeymoon (link to culture shock graphic) excitement and joy that you may remember. But over time, the stress of cross-cultural living settled in, and we began to carry around the weight of it. Now, after all these years, we not only can look back and identify the stress we faced, but we can more easily see it in the new people that arrive each year. 

So what are the common stressors we see? 

We all sat in a circle, silent. No one from our team wanted to start. No one wanted to go first. No one wanted to be the first to tell their story.

The assignment was to go around the room, everyone sharing how they were feeling about the new team structure. It was personal, and no one felt comfortable opening their mouth and baringbearing all. No one was ready to open their heart and be vulnerable about their feelings.

Were safety and trust present? 

The team leader rarely showed transparency or vulnerability, rarely admitted his own faults or personal struggles. He seemed to have his life together. His marriage and his family appeared to be perfect. 

All of us on the team feared being judged by the others. We wondered if

International living is replete with losses. Not only do we feel the loss of friends, family, belongings, and situations back home, but also the loss of competency, familiarity, and functionality in our new location. On top of all that, those we find it easiest to relate to are very transient and we are always saying goodbye.

So what’s the problem? Ungrieved losses have a way of festering below the surface. The can make us flat, or sometimes come out in irritation, anger and frustration.  At an even more basic level, we are often unaware that our losses merit any attention at all.

In this article, we'll share the 9 types of losses, so you can identify them in your own life and begin to heal. 

But first we start with my own story....

My mom died. Three months later, my stepfather died. He died in a fire that destroyed my childhood home.

An angry gray sky greeted me. Standing at the top of the flight of stairs which opened to the roof, the breeze mussed my hair and reminded me I was near the ocean. It also whispered that rain was coming.

It was a risk to hang my heaping basket of wet laundry, but I had no choice. I grabbed the heavy towels. Clip. Clip. Shirts attached next, then socks. Clip. Clip. In the midst of the up-and-down, picking-and-clipping repetition, I had lots of time to think.

I was sad. I'd been sad for a while. I rarely smiled or laughed. All of my actions felt laborious.

Continue reading . . .

"Say ‘shukran,’ honey," I whispered.

My two-year old, new lollipop in hand, looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

"Shukran."

The Moroccan shop owner burst into a smile, scooped the little girl up and kissed her face.

Disappointment is the feeling of sadness when your hopes or expectations aren’t fulfilled. It could lead to the more disheartening attitude of discouragement. What are ways to prevent this?

Learn something new about loneliness that may surprise you by taking this “FUN 10-Question Quiz.” Don’t miss out on the explanations at the end!

I didn’t realize I was.  Yes, I knew I had a hard time sitting still.  I knew it was hard to concentrate on one thing at a time.  I knew that my thinking could be compulsive at times. But an addict?!

Being able to notice symptoms in yourself and others is a very useful skill for those living cross-culturally.  The type of life we live adds enormous amounts of stress and can eat away at our sense of identity.