Blast From The Past – A Transplant

There is so much going on in relation to the word immigrant. And all of it made me think about my very own situation. I had a bit of a interaction with someone that was a Facebook buddy of mine. She is originally American living in Australia and had a good go about why the current policy in regards to the immigrants in the US is the perfect approach. She also mentioned more than once that people who are not American or are not living in the US should simply shut about about the immigration approach the current government has. It was then I felt the need to make a comment about the fact that she is nothing more than an immigrant as well and if she would appreciate being treated the way immigrants currently are in the US. I immediately got unfriended. Which to be honest is not a big loss.

But it made me think.

It made me think about how many of us are actually immigrants. How many of us have moved or have parents or grandparents that have moved. All of us, we are immigrants. And while I totally understand that in a country like the US you could claim that everyone who is not of Native American descent is an immigrant I believe you don’t even have to go that far. Look at the president. His own wife is an immigrant.

Shouldn’t we appreciate the fact that we were able to move to a country we chose to move to and are able to live there? I, in fact, are super grateful that I can live in Australia and raise my children here. Not because I come from a country that is unsafe to live in. Oh no. But because it was a choice. Now imagine you don’t have that choice but you have to move because your life and your family’s life is not safe were you currently are.

I don’t want to turn this into a political discussion. I just want people to think. Think about where they might have come from. And it really doesn’t matter if your background is Irish, Swiss, Syrian, Russian, English or Mexican. Think about their heritage. I want people to think before they judge. But that is probably a big ask…

I’d like to share the following post as a Blast Of The Past explaining a little bit how I feel living in a country I was not born in…

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A Transplant


For a long time now I struggle with the expression “expat”. Our journey here in Australia for sure started off as being expats but it developed into so much more. When I write about this side of our lives, trying to describe the longing we had before moving and the experience we had afterwards, I always try to find the right expression.

The words Expat and immigrant just simply don’t cut it for me. Especially when I look at their definitions:

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Guest Post – New Beginnings

A beautiful guest post from my friend Vanbytheriver. I was told that it was sort of inspired by my ‘Inside Out’ post, which makes me even happier. I can totally relate to how it feels moving with children. Although I have to say somehow our son made it easy on us back in the days. He must have felt really positively excited about moving to a country on the other side of the world. But of course as a parent you always worry. You worry about how it’s going to be, how well everyone will settle and if anybody will feel homesick. A move, no matter if it’s to a different country or a different state or “just” to a different town, city or even house, is always unsettling and an adventure. For everyone. It’s not only a goodbye but also a chance for a new beginning. So thanks again for this beautiful post! And, hey, I just totally virtually winked at you 😉

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One Word Photo Challenge – Windy

Melbourne is known for it’s windy days. Often, back in Switzerland, when we had similar strong winds, I would not go outside for too long or at least stay away from trees. Over the last couple of years my attitude changed slightly. I still try to avoid huge trees (if possible) but head outside even if it’s windy. Why? I’m not sure. It’s not as if I feel safer here than back in Switzerland. I think it’s just because everyone does it and it’s normal. You get used to strong winds here.

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