Breaking Up, Moving On, and Leaving Chester

In most cases, when a popular blogger ends a relationship, he  or she can do so discreetly, perhaps without even mentioning it  publicly. 

I can’t do that here.  Dave has been a major  presence on this blog for the past year and a half, as I met him in  Hanoi, Vietnam; as I moved in with him in England a year ago; as I  continued adventures with him through eight countries.  I can’t simply  stop mentioning him on here.  It needs an explanation. Dave and I have ended our relationship respectfully and amicably. 

Why?

The simple answer is one that many people called long ago: we have  vastly different lifestyles and want vastly different things.  I want to  keep traveling the world and growing my brand.  He’s happy staying in  Chester. With being able to apply for a partner visa as early as this coming  winter, the reality of it began to set in.  Once I had that visa, I  would no longer have an excuse to travel all the time.  Dave would want  me to stay behind more.  I would find myself growing resentful,  something that would only increase over time. Worst-case scenario?  I kept picturing myself divorced with kids and tied not only to the UK, but to Chester — forever. 

I Couldn’t Fit In

I haven’t let on about it here, or much at all publicly, but it hasn’t been easy for me to assimilate to life in Chester.   I haven’t written about this because I’ve been embarrassed.  I take  pride in being the kind of person who can adapt to any environment, and  not being able to do that in a seemingly easy location frustrated me. Chester is an absolutely beautiful town.  That’s the first thing that  I always say whenever someone asks me about it.  I can see why so many  people love living there.  But it’s the kind of small town where the  only sushi place quickly went out of business because NOBODY ATE THERE. I’m not a small town person — much less a small town England person.   And in England, there is a much different attitude in small towns in  the north than you would get in London, for example.  It’s very insular,  very limiting. Let me be clear — I met some truly wonderful, kind people in  Chester.  This is not a slam against anyone in Chester or elsewhere.   It’s just very difficult for me to relate to people who stay in the same  town where they grew up without any desire to live anywhere else. This is exactly what I longed to escape in Massachusetts.   As much as I loved living in dynamic, cultural Boston, I felt like  living only 20 minutes away from home felt like cheating on my life  goals — it wasn’t adventurous enough for me. 

I thought I could do it.

I tried to genuinely enjoy living in Chester.

I failed.

 I am well aware that I didn’t make as much of an effort as I could have.   I could have reached out to more people, gone to more Zumba classes.  I  chose instead to work constantly, isolating myself.  That was a poor  decision. Still, it’s incredibly tough to live in a small town as a foreigner  — particularly when your boyfriend’s friends are the friends he’s had  for two decades, and when he is so firmly entrenched into the local  community that you feel like a perpetual outsider. Especially when it comes to being American.  Believe me, I am happy  to be ribbed as the token American — if you take yourself too seriously,  you’re best off avoiding Britain altogether — but when you hear nothing  but negativity about your country and people of your nationality for  months on end, it takes a serious toll.  That has always been one of the  most hurtful things to me about living in Chester. Everywhere I went, I tried to downplay my Americanness just to escape that negativity.   I attempted to dampen down my accent.  I swiftly traded my Americanisms  for British slang.  I tried to be quieter, more demure, to take up less  figurative space. And I would try to get Dave to say something, ANYTHING, positive  about America or Americans.  He would always say that he loved how I was  “the anti-American” — NOT anti-American as in being against America,  but as in not being an American stereotype.  Dave has been to America  several times, and he still couldn’t find anything positive to say about  his girlfriend’s country. That hurt me deeply.  It still hurts me. Sure, there are loads of American stereotypes: that Americans are  fat, gun-toting, geographically-challenged imbeciles.  But there’s  another stereotype: that all Brits can’t stand Americans.  Neither of  these stereotypes are true. My friends in London love Americans.  My friends in Scotland love EVERYBODY. When I went back to New York this summer, I strutted happily down the  streets of SoHo while chattering loudly into my phone, just like  everyone else.  That simple action made me teary with happiness.  It had been so long since I had allowed myself that small freedom. 

Family and Relationships

Dave lives a short walk away from his parents and brothers, and he has a huge extended family living in Chester as well.   I love that Dave loves his family and loves spending time with them.   You can tell that Dave’s parents raised him and his brothers right —  they are the kindest, sweetest, most helpful, friendliest, most  respectful guys.  And the whole family has always been so kind and  welcoming to me from the very beginning. I’ve always known that Dave’s friends meant a lot to him, too — but I  didn’t realize just how much until one day a few months ago when he  told me, “I don’t want to be the kind of guy who only sees his friends a  few times a year.” Dave has friends whom he only sees a few times a year.  They live in Leeds and London.  Two hours away. That was the moment when I knew our relationship wouldn’t work out. 

You are not a terrible person for wanting to break up  with someone you love. You don’t need a reason to leave. Wanting to  leave is enough. Leaving doesn’t mean you’re incapable of real love or  that you’ll never love anyone else again. It doesn’t mean you’re morally  bankrupt or psychologically demented or a nymphomaniac. It means you  wish to change the terms of one particular relationship. That’s all. Be brave enough to break your own heart. —Dear Sugar

I read this quote by Sugar  a few months ago and while her advice brings me to tears on a regular  basis, this one made me sob.  I had worried that I was each of these —  that I was a ball of self-destruction, a sociopath devoid of empathy, a  man-eater incapable of sustaining a relationship, because who in their  right mind would want to leave someone like Dave? If I couldn’t make it with the kindest man I had ever known, a man  who was basically the world’s best boyfriend, WHO THE F*CK COULD I  ACTUALLY MAKE IT WITH?! Then I forgave myself. 

How It Happened

TBU Porto was a breaking point that had been a long time coming.   Travel blogging events are always a huge adrenaline rush for me — I  leave on a high of inspiration, spending time with lots of people who  not only understand me, but who encourage me to push myself to achieve  my dreams. After Porto, the scales were finally tipped in the direction of  ending my relationship for good.  I decided to wait and do the breakup  in person once I returned to Chester three weeks later. Two weeks later, on the Sunday after TBEX, Dave broke up with me by  email.  I read the email while sitting on my hostel bed in Girona. I let exactly two tears fall before letting myself sink into  billowing relief.  Dave has since told me that he felt the same relief. This breakup is good.  It needed to happen (as all  our friends and family have been reminding me and Dave constantly,  somewhat to my chagrin.  Really, you all knew we were so doomed and  never said a thing?!).  But there’s still a lot of pain on all sides.  I  know it will lessen with time. Packing up my stuff was hard. 

What’s Next?

I have decided to move to London — for the next few weeks, and possibly longer. Yes, London!  I’ve always wanted to move somewhere hot and cheap  where I could stay long-term without any visa issues, and London could  not be a worse match for that criteria. But being in London over the past few days has brought me so much  happiness.  I’ve missed the glory of city life!  Going to museums on a  whim!  Trying whatever ethnic food sounds good at the moment!  Taking  public transportation!  By God, I love the tube! Most importantly, I will be among friends as long as I live in  London.  I have lots of friends here — including lots of travel blogger  friends — and there are lots of travel and business-related events and  gatherings.  It’s been a very lonely year in Chester, and being  surrounded by friends is exactly what I need right now. In London, I can be the person I want to be.  It’s my antidote to a year of trying to be someone else. Can I afford to live in London?  Um, not if I continue at the rate  that I am now.  Which means it’s time to CRANK UP THE BUSINESS TO  ELEVEN.  That’s what I’ve been wanting to do, anyway, so it gives me a  huge incentive.

   

Thanks for visiting. have a nice day :) Kate McCulley 

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