Permission to Pivot

Guest article by Katie Walker

I really wanted to hate it. And in an embarrassing admission of my own pride, I wanted my kids to hate it too.

When we finished the tour of the school that day, I didn’t hate it, and neither did my kids. In fact, we loved it. We all agreed it was our next right choice.

Sending my kids to international school was not on my radar. We started out our expat adventure in a corner of the world where homeschooling was our only viable option, and because we loved it, I assumed we would never entertain another route. Then, as people like us do, we moved. We found ourselves in a place with more options and in a season of our kids having different needs.

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Expat life, though built on a foundation of purpose and excitement, can maintain an undercurrent of instability. Visa problems, geopolitical issues, and family medical needs, among many other things, seem to just simmer in the background of our lives, threatening to boil over and upend the normalcy we strive so hard to create.

Therefore, we find stability in the things we can control—maybe our education choices, the neighborhood in which we live, the food we eat, the people with whom we associate, or even the daily schedule we keep. If you are anything like me, it may feel unsettling to admit, but sometimes the rhythms, places, or people on which we have built our trust and found stability may need to change. I am learning it can be good to change my mind, make a concession, or shift for a semester. It can also be good to pause indefinitely or even permanently end a season. There is wisdom in recognizing when something is no longer serving the purpose it originally did, but shifting does not always mean something “wasn’t working.” It may just be the opportunity to try something new while leaving the option open to shift right back when the winds change again.

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Have you ever felt both the ease of contentment and the draw towards change? For us, our education choice was once a non-negotiable based on what I knew to be true, but it began to become more negotiable when I realized our dynamics had changed. Maybe you have felt it too—what was once concrete, stable, and dependable may actually be more flexible than you originally thought. Pivots may provide the deep exhale of a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

After we finished the tour of the school, that’s what we gave ourselves permission to do: pivot.

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As someone who struggled with the idea of false martyrdom during our first several years overseas, I wanted to present a life that appeared successful and exotic, yet humble, and never admit defeat to those watching me from the outside. I struggled with maintaining the persona of what I imagined others thought an expat’s life should look like.

What would people think when I, a strong homeschooling advocate, suddenly thrust my children into a more traditional school setting? What would they think if we moved to a more “western” area of town? Would they raise eyebrows at the tuition costs?

These are questions no one asked, yet I always cared what our personal pivots would lead others to believe about me.

But we are not failures when we pivot. Rerouting our course can be good and necessary. Recognizing the changing needs of our families and seeking ways to meet them can support our longevity in the places we desire to be. Mourning what used to be and celebrating what could be can provide both the closure we need for one season and the encouragement we need to move forward into another.

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After sending my oldest two kids to a brick and mortar school, I gripped my two kindergarteners a little tighter. I kept them at home, loosely schooling with lots of playing. However, I also found myself highly distracted during language study, pulling apart pesky Lego pieces, fixing snacks, and responding to calls from the bathroom. While I reveled in their still being at home, I felt at peace about allowing them to attend a local preschool for a few hours every morning when the opportunity presented itself. Having walked this road once, I knew what information I needed in order to make a wise decision. Though it added some logistical chaos to our daily schedule, it opened doors for relationships and growth. It was our next right choice.

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Facing the choice to pivot or not has revealed my own sin, struggles, and selfish desires. Pride tells me to stand my ground, even at the expense of my family and my sanity. Shame tells me not to disappoint those watching from the outside. But thankfully, the Father has worked on my heart and revealed how tightly I’ve held onto what I’d always deemed unchangeable.

I am better at establishing healthy boundaries for my family. I am more aware of which routines help us flourish and which ones induce struggle. I now realized that nearly no one cares where we live or how we educate our kids. Many friends have cheered us on and celebrated our decisions as answers to prayers lifted diligently on our behalf.

In the moment, change is not usually the easier step, but it may be the next right one. It may be the rest you’ve desired or the push you’ve needed. As expats, we know situational dynamics are always changing, but we can move forward confidently to whatever comes next.

Would a schooling shift help your family? A new neighborhood? Do you need to redefine your work focus? Or maybe turn some things down so that you can coast for a while? Well, here’s your permission to pivot.

This guest article is written by Katie Walker. Katie currently lives in the Balkans with her husband and four kids. She’s a physical therapist by trade with a heart for serving women in all stages of life. When she’s not studying language or running back and forth to the visa office, she’s in the kitchen making things from scratch that she could probably just purchase at the store. When she remembers, she writes on Instagram.