My only option

Last week I read that the Irish government pays generous amounts of money to people who are willing to move to one of the nation’s remote islands.

Five years ago I would have seriously considered to jump at this opportunity, because I was convinced there was no place for me in this society.

I even remember saying to my therapist: “I just don’t understand people. I don’t know how to communicate with them, and I have no idea how to live among them. I think living on a desert island is my only option.”

My problem was that I tried to please everyone around me. Friends, family members, colleagues, bosses (especially my many bosses!), neighbors, the cashier at the supermarket, strangers. My biggest fear was that anyone would get angry at me. And in trying to avoid conflict, I made my own life impossible.

I learned a lot since my island days::

• first of all, I’m pretty sure their WiFi is non-existent

• and online shops don’t deliver my art supplies over there.

• But most of all, I discovered a place in society where I feel content.

• And yes, I spend most alone in my studio, without the presence of coworkers and bosses.

• Which leaves energy to connect with the people I love.

So I’m sorry, Ireland. I’m not coming over. Because I found my happy spot. It’s right here.