That first month in Melbourne feels like a blur!

At the time, we were so busy trying to make everything work that we barely had time to stop and take it all in. Looking back, though, it wasn’t the big things I remember most, but rather the little moments in between.

We have been preparing for this move for months. From the day we got the visa, it has been a constant state of planning and organising everything. Getting Jasmine back to Australia was a huge undertaking, and the preparation was exhausting. 

Telling family was probably one of the hardest parts. Some took the news well, others were shocked, but every conversation made the move feel a little more real.

When the day came, everything felt so rushed. It felt like we didn’t have time to do all that we wanted to do before we left. It was an emotional departure.

When we left, it was a feeling of excitement and nervousness about what was yet to come, we didn’t even know if we would have a house to move into.

Melbourne didn’t exactly give us time to settle in.

Two days after we arrived was my brother’s wedding. Once the celebrations were over, we had a house to move into, furniture to buy and a new job starting in just over a week.

There was a lot of uncertainty around our house. Our tenant had refused to leave, and there was a real possibility that we would be without a place to live a week after arriving in Melbourne. The thought of having to find temporary accommodation and deal with the financial cost added another layer of stress to an already overwhelming move.

Thankfully, the tenant moved out when he said he would. But even getting into the house wasn’t straightforward, there was a pile of rubbish that was left on the nature strip which we had to clean up. It took months to clear the rubbish as the rubbish collection was fortnightly. And because we were relying on my brother’s car, we soon had to buy our own. That came with its own little headache when the engine light came on almost immediately after we drove off the sellers driveway. What followed was more stress, more phone calls and an unexpected repair bill, just another thing to deal with while we were already trying to find our feet.

At the time, we didn’t have the luxury of slowing down. There was always something else to organise, another problem to solve, another thing on the list. We were so focused on getting through the next thing that we barely had time to process what we had done, we had left one life behind and were starting another.

Back home, we were surrounded by people. There were always family members nearby, friends to call, someone who could lend a hand. Here, it was just the two of us. And I don’t think we realised how much we relied on that sense of having people around us until it was gone.

A week and a half later, I started my new job. I still have the photo taken for my work access pass that day. Every time I see it, I can see just how exhausted I was, yet, somehow, I was ready to begin this new chapter. Now, when I think about that first month, it’s not the stress that comes to mind first. It’s the little things.

Like waking up early to watch the city wake up from 35th floor of the apartment we were staying in the city. Our first meal at this little Thai restaurant, where the warmth of the staff made us feel welcome in a city that was slowly becoming familiar again. The first meal we cooked in our own kitchen and buying Jasmine’s, our fur baby’s favourite treats.

Amongst all the chaos, there was one thing that we were both looking forward to, that was seeing our little kitty again. We were counting days and collecting her favourite treat to give her when she finally came. That hope and excitement was something we held on to. Once the chaos slowly started to settled, the reality started to hit us both of what life here would be like.

Going through this move also gave me a completely different perspective on what it means to leave everything familiar behind and start again somewhere else. I have an immense amount of respect and empathy now for people who make these life-changing moves later in life, including my parents. It made me realise how much courage it takes to leave behind the people, places and routines that have shaped your life and try to build a sense of home somewhere new.

When we went to visit the Buddhist temple or the Sri Lankan shop,  it wasn’t just about the temple or the shop itself, it was that feeling of comfort of being somewhere that felt familiar when so much around us still felt new. Being surrounded by people who shared something familiar with us.

That first month it was not how to recreate the life we had left behind, but rather how to slowly find little pieces of home in a new one.