It seems like our journey to our host country took an eternity, so I had plenty of time to prepare. Then, when we arrived, we felt woefully unprepared! How did that happen?As we near a year overseas, I have been remembering how I felt in the stressful months leading up to our move. If my future self could have walked alongside her, what would I have said? If I could write a letter to my pre-expat self, what would I tell her? That depends on how far in the past I could send my letter! I’d tell my high school self to apply herself in Spanish class, study abroad, and keep it up because 15 years later, she’ll be living in Spain. I’d tell my college self to make friends with international students. I’d tell that young married couple not to get a cat because giving him away to a stranger will feel like abandoning a child. (Although, I can't imagine those tender first years without him.)

The self I really want to talk to is not the one who would pray, dream and plan for cross-cultural work for almost 10 years. I want to talk to the one who’s already shipped the crate, packed the suitcase, and hugged her in-laws goodbye at the airport. Those moments flew by, marked by stress and sadness, excitement and joy. I wasn't thinking about our life in Spain at that time, only those stressful moments. On the one hand, it's good to live in the moment. On the other hand, I want to open her eyes to see the bigger picture. I want to send a letter to the woman waiting at the gate, almost...but not yet, already on her adventure.Here are 5 pieces of advice I would give her:

1. Expat life is an adventure. Embrace it – take the photos, experience the joy, feel like a tourist whenever you want. Your co-workers are finding their favorite little towns in Spain after 20 years of living there. Go ahead and look for the adventure, embrace it, and be grateful for it. One Saturday you will be so bored you’ll just get in the car and drive to someplace your co-worker told you was “nice.” There you’ll find a literal oasis – a waterfall in the middle of the desert, just over an hour’s drive away. Adventures like that are always just around the corner, and that’s one of the advantages of your new life. Take the photos, share them on social media, and thank God you get to live this life.

2. Cross-cultural living is a lot of mundane, repetitive tasks that are difficult to accomplish. You’ll go to the city three times, and you still won’t have your residency card. Your couch will take two months to arrive. Culture fatigue is real: it’s physically tiring to move. So, rest when you need to so you have the energy to work when you can. You or a member of your family will be sick every other month for a year. Your daily schedule will be dominated by delivering and picking up children from two different schools. There are taxes to pay, paperwork to fill out, communication to keep up with, floors to clean and beds to make.

3. Making friends will feel awkward, but it's worth it. Making friends in a new language is even harder. Go slow, don’t give up, and don’t be too hard on yourself. Six months in, you might still feel really lonely, but have faith; you’re a great catch for a friend. The special ones will come along and stick around. Making close friends in your host country might require something you never would have done in your passport country; keep trying. It also requires that age-old advice; just be yourself. You'll work hard on your Spanish accent and receive a lot of compliments. (Apparently, "aaawww" is a distinctly American sound that will endear you to your closest Spanish friend forever. Aaaaaw.)

4. You are not what (or when) you eat. The Spanish schedule gives new meaning to the old phrase “you are what you eat.” In Spain, it’s more like, “you are when you eat.” Spaniards eat frequently, but at totally different times than in the States. It will be hard for the children to make the change, so be patient and carry snacks. Six months in, your bodies are still a little discombobulated, and you'll still get frustrated when you can’t find an open restaurant at 6 pm. (They open at the earliest at 8 pm.) Remember when you read the book The Happy Dinner Table in an effort to get your toddler son to eat more and healthier options? It may or may not work. But the food is delicious to eat but boring to talk about. So eat when you're hungry. Your slowness to adjust doesn’t say anything about you personally. Of course, this applies to more than just the meal schedule!

5. You’re allowed to mourn your losses. This is a dream come true, a fulfillment of your hopes and plans, and the culmination of a lot of hard work and sacrifice (yours and others’), and you’re allowed to grieve the losses- even the expected ones. Yes, you’ll shed some tears on Christmas Day when you realize it was so magical at "home" because the grandparents made it so. You'll also create a gorgeous new tradition of drying and decorating with orange slices. You’re also allowed to lament the school system (Spanish and American), the dog poop on the sidewalk, and the missing coffee creamer and cashew yogurt you’d been buying at the grocery store in the States, and the poor customer service. Feel the losses and acknowledge them. Sometimes the loss will feel bigger than it is (you'll find a satisfying replacement for both the coffee creamer and the yogurt.) That is part of the process. As soon as you can, find something to be grateful for and anchor yourself. Different is ok, and you'll discover over and over that different is also great.

I can't go back in time and give this advice to my pre-expat self, but I can learn these lessons well and continue to use them as I move forward in my expat journey.  I hear expat life can be circular.  Life overseas is periods of grief and loss, excitement to mundane, over and over and over.  So as I look to the future, I am thankful for the lessons and the process as I move forward.

What about you? What advice would you give to your pre-expat self?