This week we’re celebrating two years living in Switzerland and I’m surprised how emotionally-wrought this anniversary has been. We’re experiencing the most difficult of expat conundrums: The longer you live in your adopted country the harder it is to imagine moving home. In fact, it’s harder to define where “home” lies these days. We’re having a full-blown, expat identity crisis. I can say with certainty that a part of me will always be in Switzerland, just as a part of me will always be in the California, no matter where my body actually resides.
Despite having never set foot in Switzerland before moving here, we quickly fell in love with the country. We became outdoor-loving, train-riding, watch-wearing, cheese-eating versions of ourselves. Or maybe we became our real selves. But we didn’t only fall in love with the mountains, we fell in love with this go-go-go expat lifestyle of seeing as many new countries as we possibly can. It’s intoxicating, addicting and all-consuming. I didn’t think I had an addictive personality until I met my poison.
In the end, I’m simply trying to be grateful. I’m trying not dwell on the notion that Switzerland may have ruined me; that this incredibly enriching experience has spoiled me rotten to the core. Settling down someday will be an adventure in itself. Right?
To celebrate our Swissiversary we’re headed to Zermatt this weekend to have a proper raclette with a view of the Matterhorn. Meanwhile, enjoy a few of my favorite expat posts:
Paige Langton 
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