It's 9:30am on Monday March 12th, 2018 here in Vancouver. The clocks
went back an hour yesterday and to say I'm still adjusting would be an
understatement. As I sit here in my downtown apartment, with a view of English
Bay, sitting awkwardly by the front door so I can pick up free Wi-Fi, it still strikes me that if things had
been slightly different, there's a big chance I wouldn't be here at all. I
wouldn't be sipping my third cup of coffee. I wouldn't be the happiest I have
ever been. I wouldn't be living directly underneath what must be some type of
small horse as they clip-clop around their apartment all day long. I wouldn't
be able to walk 10 minutes to work and be living off Davie Street which is the
most progressive and open-minded neighbourhood to live in. I wouldn't have a
section of my wardrobe dedicated to my dramatic earrings costume jewellery
collection and Pauls electric
guitar, that is orange by the way, wouldn't be happily perched up against the
wall.
We moved here originally in 2008, when I was 21 and he was 23, on a one-year
visa. We absolutely loved it. Mind you we were very different back then as we
were meat-eating, chain-smoking and drinking heavily. Even through the haze of
stimulants, we knew we belonged here. As our visa's expired, we left Canada,
returned to Ireland but reassured our friends in Vancouver that we would be
back within a year. That year came and went without ever leaving Ireland. Unfortunately,
our romantic view of our homeland was crushed when we returned in the height of
the recession and to say the next 5 years were difficult would be an
understatement. We always said that we would come back to Canada, but I think
we both had a feeling that due to circumstances out of our control, this might
just be a pipedream.
You see we're not like most thirty-something couples you would meet. We've
been together for thirteen years and no we have never broken up. We don't want
a family but maybe one day we'll own a cat and duck if we choose to
"settle down". The idea of trying to get a mortgage in Ireland was as
appealing as getting a dentist to give you a smear test. The knock-on effect of
the last ten years on my generation is that most are still living with family
well into their thirties despite this making their life a misery. They're
either trying their best to save for a deposit for a house that isn’t built
yet, but they’ll need to camp out overnight due to demand to put their money
down. Financially those who want a family mightn't be able to afford one until
their early forties and then be reminded daily that it mightn't happen due to
your age and by the way did you freeze your eggs? Has your husband had his
sperm tested? Bit personal for the post office counter isn't it?
But you're still made to feel like it's something you're doing wrong.
That everyone else has it figured out and you're in the minority. This is a
very harmful way to deal with this situation and I see reminders weekly
on Facebook of the young Irish
people who couldn't take it anymore. Who decided that their life wasn't one
that they wanted to live anymore. This is our failure.
There is something very wrong here.
We are not the problem. We are not the cause. We’re only left to deal
with this mess.
Through all the stress, pain and tears of the last ten years, Paul and I
stayed focused on getting to Vancouver and 2 months ago, our feet finally
walked on Canadian soil. We are now home. To anyone else who is still
feeling stuck somewhere they would prefer not to be, don’t give up on your
dreams. Anything is possible if you work hard and believe that it’s possible.
To my friends in Ireland I miss you all dearly but there’s a Sephora here so……
