The Natural Order of Things

(from this blog)

Careerwise, I never considered moving back to Portugal. Partly because I really love the company I am working for and the people I work with, partly because I thought old horizons were not an option when looking for new horizons.

However, there is more to life than your job and recently the combination of my grandparents getting older, my younger brothers and sisters becoming new persons with every month that goes by and the whole country being all over the press for all the wrong reasons really hit me – I wanted to go back. I was going back.

Simultaneously, my experiences organizing conferences and seminars, serving as an awards jury and writing my Portuguese blog have never failed to show me that, digital communication or PR wise, Portugal is high up there with most European countries.

I can tell exactly when the final decision was made, but the way it felt and the way it combined so many aspects, projects and dreams that had been present for a long time showed that the decision had been around for a while, just waiting for the moment in which I had five minutes available for an AHA effect.

Once the AHA effect was there and the decision was taken, the serious part began. The part where you cancel your apartment. Let your bosses and colleagues know you are leaving. Start saying goodbye to friends. Start missing everything you love about the city – your favourite ice cream parlour, your favourite opera house, your favourite tree, your favourite street, your favourite cheap Italian restaurant, your favourite bar, your favourite park.

But also the part in which you start looking for a new job that is as exciting and full of challenges as the one you have. For a new flat that has a view over the river or a friend with whom you can share the task of making chicken bouillon. For the place in which, for the first time, all of your books (see personal stand on nerdiness) will be gathered together in one room.

I am a little scared, because the Portuguese job market is scary right now and it would be irresponsible not to worry, but I am also confident – I believe in my skills and capacities, my initiative and creativity, my oh so very Portuguese problem solving attitude and my flexibility and I am sure somewhere the perfect job is out there looking for me.

If all fails? I can still move to my country house and start a guest house or a goat cheese production. Move again, perhaps to the UK or, oh yes!, France. Or move back home – to Berlin. So there you go – a B Plan, a C Plan and a D Plan. Having forged all of those, I think I am allowed to be euphoric about plan A.

I, Rita Dantas, am going home.