Resurrecting My Hair: A Metaphor for Expat Life
“Trying to resurrect my confidence-boosting curls reminds me of expat life. Culture fatigue flattens me and dampens my spirit. Language acquisition makes me feel like I’m back in seventh grade, when I woke up one day and my hair had made its hormone-induced transition.”
I have the hair of a Mediterranean sea goddess. I discovered this last fall when our family traveled to Malta for a conference, and every single one of my ringlets was living its best life every day. One morning, I came out of the bathroom after catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror and shrieked to my husband, “I actually woke up like this!” They were so tight and bouncy I got compliments on my “haircut” when I posted photos.
The humidity, the sea breeze, the silky hotel pillowcase and the relaxed atmosphere of the conference that enabled me to primp a bit in the morning created the perfect environment for my curls to thrive. I only needed to wash my hair two times the whole week. The rest of the time I spritzed with a little water, added a tiny bit of product to combat the frizz, and twisted the few disobedient ringlets back in shape. To my amazement, they stayed all day.
In the warm, slightly humid, Mediterranean air on Malta, my hair was its true self. I vainly enjoyed that, so I was my true self, too. Having my curls fixed and taking time to do my makeup makes me feel pretty, put-together, and authentic. I get more done. I have more confidence. Ok, I’ll admit it: there’s also something to be said about the change in routine and the incredible buffet for every meal. It was a conference, not a vacation, but it was definitely not much work, which always helps.
Back in the center of my host country, the January winter is dry. The moment I touch my curls, the ringlets fall out. I’m more stressed, so I run my fingers through my hair more often, even though I know you should never touch a curl. Sleeping flattens them completely, or I wake up with Salvador Dali-style bedhead. This is going to require some kind of fairy dust, I think. Or mermaid tears.
Trying to resurrect my confidence-boosting curls reminds me of expat life. Culture fatigue flattens me and dampens my spirit. Language acquisition makes me feel like I’m back in seventh grade, when I woke up one day and my hair had made its hormone-induced transition from slightly wavy to full-on frizz. I had new glasses and impending braces and raging hormones. I was not happy about curly hair either.
I’ve felt all those emotions navigating my life abroad. I’m not on a permanent vacation on the Mediterranean, and not on the terra firma of my passport country. It’s hard to thrive when I feel so out-of-sorts.
So what do I do?
Well, for my hair, I condition daily. By faith, I spritz and scrunch and diffuse, and voila! My curls return, surprising me. For my mind and soul, I set reasonable expectations of my expat life. Just like I learned the tricks to deal with my unruly curls, I’ve developed some habits for maintaining my sanity on the field.
Rest from culture fatigue. If I have to speak Spanish all day long, I recognize that, by evening, I’ll be flagging. I give myself grace. Sundays are heavy speaking days for us, so we usually don’t go out on Mondays. By Tuesday evening, when I take my daughter to dance and head to a Spanish Bible study, I’m ready again.
Practice gratitude. I can’t have naturally straight hair, and I can’t escape my expat life. In fact, the statistics show that it isn’t healthy to try. But I can rest from it, and I can look for the blessings in it every day. I keep a simple list each month. Instead of apologizing for my language weaknesses, I say “thank you for your patience with me.”
Embrace differences. Some curly-girls are talented and know how to wield a straightening iron, make beachy waves, and tame their ringlets. Most of us can only do all those things with the help of a professional.* I really do not know how to style my hair any other way than curly. Curly is who I am. And no matter how “like home” my host country feels and no matter how good and local-sounding my Spanish is — native-English speaker will always be a key part of my identity. Just like curly hair, I have learned to embrace it and look for ways it can help me.
Some days are just bad hair days, and some days are just bad expat days. I try to get a little extra sleep, take a long shower (not too hot!), deep condition the curls and try again.
What are some ways you recover from a bad expat day? Share with us in the comments!
*Getting help from a professional is another tool in your expat life survival manual. It is just as valuable for your mental health to talk to a counselor as going to the salon is for your hair health.
