Whenever I tell someone back home in Kentucky that my husband is Irish and we live in Ireland, they get this dreamy look in their eyes.
I can imagine what they probably think my life looks like: living in a thatched-roof cottage, strolling among gently rolling hills dotted with fluffy sheep, and spending cozy, firelit evenings in a pub overflowing with laughter and live traditional music.
Those things do exist in Ireland — but, as I found out, not to the extent Hollywood and the tourism industry would have you believe.
I loved living in Ireland at first
I was in my mid-20s when I arrived in Cork City for a dream internship at a local restaurant. I couldn’t believe my luck.
Locals and newcomers alike always say that Cork, Ireland’s second-largest city, is really just a village. Its community vibe, bustling markets, and diverse cultural activities quickly made me feel like I belonged.
Only weeks in, I caught myself basking in a rare day of sunshine, wistfully thinking, “This is somewhere I could see myself living five years from now.” Famous last words.
About three months after moving to Ireland, I met Frank through friends I’d made. One glimpse was all it took.
Several weeks later, we were dating. When my internship ended and I returned to Kentucky, I was eager to get back to Frank as soon as I could — so, we started discussing marriage.
My parents weren’t thrilled to hear I was getting married and moving 4,000 miles away. My mom warned me the distance would be incredibly hard, but I was convinced any homesickness would be manageable and everything would work out … like in a fairy tale.
My return to Ireland felt different
Once I was permanently settled in Ireland, the dreamy veneer of this lifestyle began to fade away. Things that hadn’t bothered me before suddenly felt like big problems.
For one thing, finding a nice and affordable rental was more challenging than I expected.
I envisioned our first home together having a patio garden for slow mornings sipping coffee, a guest bedroom for when family came to visit, and a cozy kitchen for gathering with friends.
After spending weeks viewing the limited options within our budget — all musty, cramped, soulless one-bedrooms — we finally got lucky and found a small but comfortable place we could afford.
Still, though, I had to give up on my dreams of a garden and spare bedroom, and invest in a good dehumidifier to handle the unrelenting dampness caused by Ireland’s frequent rain.
As my mom predicted, though, the greatest challenge thus far has been dealing with homesickness.
This was especially true during the COVID-19 pandemic, just over five years into my marriage. I’ll never forget the video chat with my parents in March 2020, when we discussed whether I should go home or remain in Ireland.
As a US citizen, I could board one of the few North American flights, but Frank couldn’t. It was a moment I never thought I’d face — choosing between my husband and my home.
In deciding the safest option was to stay put, I didn’t know how many months or even years would pass before I’d see my family in Kentucky again.
Despite what my friends think, life isn’t greener on the Emerald Isle
When I see people back home’s faces light up after I tell them I live in Ireland, I always want to say it’s not as magical as they might imagine … but then, I think of my husband and the life we share.
Together we’ve been able to run a business from home, develop our creative interests (acting for him, writing for me), live in a walkable city without a car, enjoy access to amazing local food, and take a cheap flight to Europe whenever wanderlust strikes.
It’s true that Ireland isn’t as dreamy in reality as it is on screen, and my homesickness means half of my heart is always somewhere else.
I followed my heart to Ireland, though, and I’ve chosen to stay because of the love I found here. Perhaps my life is its own type of fairy tale after all.
Read the full article here
