I moved to London from Dublin three years ago. In that time, I’ve watched the British mourn the loss of their queen, seen the constant turnover of Conservative prime ministers and heard office chit chat grow sour as prices grew.
The crowning a new king conflated with complicated feelings about the role of the monarchy in the first place, but “sure hasn’t it been great that you’ve got all the extra bank holidays because of it” my family and friends at home would say.
You don’t need to go far in London to find expats; the Aussies who crave culture and the big city life, the Canadians who have a two-year visa to “do” Europe, and the Irish around every corner, waiting no less than a minute to tell you where the best pint of Guinness is, and explaining that when we say “your man” we don’t mean “your” man specifically, we just mean “that guy”.
I tell my British co-workers when they ask why I moved over that “it’s a rite of passage for Irish people to move abroad, but I’d say most of us will end up back home”. I used to confidently believe this, but I’ve found myself wondering if it’s actually true.
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My London life started with an exciting job in a start-up and a house-share in southwest London. Covid lingered still, but the post-pandemic world was most definitely emerging. Going from being locked up working and studying in my parents’ house to moving abroad by myself, I tried hard not to have one foot at home and one abroad, but it became a sort of messy dance between the two, probably largely due to the aftermath of the pandemic, and experiencing pangs of homesickness, eased by giving in to the temptation of the cheap Friday night Ryanair flight.
Now, I am settled into London life and with an ever-growing cohort of existing and new friends – most of whom are Irish, but also English, Scottish, Australian and Canadian.
From afar, it feels like all I see are articles about how Ireland continues to empty itself of 20-something year-olds and it has me thinking, what will be left for us when, or if we decide to come home?
Sitting in any pub or beer garden on a Sunday afternoon with a roast in London can often feel like we’re all on an extended J1, like life will just snap back into reality and we’ll be back at home in Ireland and the holiday will be over.
Sure, there might be a few engagement rings, a baby or two, and a great story to tell, but surely it will just go back to normal, and that reunion feeling we’ve grown used to in the pub on Christmas Eve will no longer just be a once a year feeling, but back to being the norm.
How blissful and naive!
The obvious questions remain, and will probably continue to remain for Ireland and Dublin of the housing crisis, inflation and cost of living, to when will Dublin Bus get a contactless payment method like London.
Then there is the reality of what it is to be Irish. When abroad, we wear our charming friendly and welcoming nature like a badge of honour. At home we slip back into our old ways, self-deprecating humour masking our true feelings. And then there are the worries that if we did move home, will our friends be there?
Older cousins who did their stints in London and Australia have said to wait a couple more years and everyone will start trickling back in. This probably will happen, but who makes that decision? Does someone just decide one day that it’s time to move home and we’ll all follow suit?
Does someone just decide actually the pub Sunday roasts are great and all but you know what’s even better? Sitting in traffic on the M50 and climbing an impossibly high property ladder! What enticed them to come home may not be the same.
Maybe it’s a Covid hangover, maybe it’s Peter Pan syndrome, or maybe it’s just that finding a home outside of home is in fact possible for so many.
Personally, I hope to move back to Ireland and realign with the me of the past and see how and where I’ve grown and changed, reconnect with family and old friends and see how my London work experience fares in the Irish job market of today.
My former expat status will fade, but the appreciation I’ve gained is vast. I have, as an Irish person, found a home with our problematic neighbours.
- Francesca Shaw is from Dublin. She left in 2021 to move to London, where she works in HR.
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