Two years and counting

Today is the second anniversary of my departure from the UK, and the beginning of our new life. Then, I'd just packed my job in, packed away our belongings and put our house on the rental market, and was being driven to Heathrow by my parents for a tearful farewell. I'd never visited the country I was moving to, and had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that my missed my husband like crazy - he'd moved out two months ahead of me to begin his training.

Two years on, we're very happy here. We have our beautiful son, who we both believe wouldn't be here if I hadn't downshifted so much and removed all career-related stress from my life. My husband has a stable job that pays very well and has good prospects, and I have loads of friends, I'm back working (very) part-time, and we have a lovely place to live.

If I'd seen this coming two years ago, I'd have been ecstatic.