I’m going to move to America.
Let that one sink in for a moment. Remember that for the last few months, I’ve been futilely attempting to bring Arden, my fiancé to this country. That the last time I had considered emigrating was around the age of eighteen, long before I had even heard of Arden or met most of the bunch of native USA-ians who I now call friends. Bear in mind that this plan is so new that I haven’t even told my Dad yet.
Got a sense of what I’m dealing with yet?
I say “dealing with”. This is exciting, as it should be. And I’ve been on a strange high for the last few days that I haven’t felt in months.
Putting it simply: my main priority right now is getting to be with Arden. It’s for a few reasons, and not just the short-sighted “I love her” one. Arden motivates me to be a better person, be more proactive, and - contradicting the age-old cliché of neutering one’s personality to fit a partner - express myself more and be an individual. I thrive around Arden, and I want the chance to do that.
Doing that by bringing her here was always going to be hard, of course. I’d need to get to a point where I was 100% self-sufficient, having moved out and earning enough to fully support two people. I am an English and Philosophy graduate. I might have a nice little temp job until the end of October, but I’m not even close to that. Add in a family willing to put ethical principles in front of short-term suffering, and it was always going to be rough.
And then things got worse. There’s currently legislation being drafted that’d bump up the minimum salary requirement for a UK citizen moving their fiancé or spouse to this country to around £23,000. I’m not going to earn that for a while unless I’m extremely lucky. And by “a while”, I mean years. And there are peripheral reasons, too - while the employment situation anywhere is dire at the moment, there are a lot more small presses in the USA and a lot of video game companies. And in the US, there are people willing to offer their generosity so that I can settle in. It’s still a long road, but it’s something that feels within reach.
It means that the low-wage, low-stress job that I’m doing at the moment counts towards a savings goal that’s lofty, but not so daunting that it doesn’t feel within reach. (I’m uncomfortable saying what that goal is, as I’m not looking for yet more offers of money, but I feel confident that Arden and I can reach it.) Even if/when I’m getting a pitiful sum from the government while I look for a new job, I can add it to the steadily-growing pile. This is all stuff I couldn’t really do before. There wasn’t any point - what’s a few thousand saved now when it’s just going to fester until I’m two or three steps up the career ladder?
I feel like I have agency for the first time in months. Maybe even years - granted, I was studying, but there’s nothing like an arts degree to make you feel like you’re not doing anything with your life.
This feels like a new chapter, rather than a really slow page-turn. On Monday morning, I’ll be going into work with just a little more energy, because I know that what I’m doing is worth something. I’m looking forward to living with the person I love, and having the breathing space to make a life together without collapsing under stress. It’ll be months until we can even put the next step into effect - beyond October, I have no planned employment, and welfare payments only bring in so much - but the end has turned from something in whose direction we’re blindly sailing to a faint glimmer on the horizon.
I turned 22 last week, and after a few very long months, I feel like I’m finally getting things on track.