I’m in! Now what?

Life post-resident permit.

My Irish residence permit was approved a few weeks ago on Valentine’s Day (fittingly enough). I can barely begin to describe what a weight off my chest the permit approval has been - I feel like entire sections of my brain have re-opened for business now that I no longer have to ruminate on whether or not I’ll be allowed to stay in the country. I always understood, logically, that there was no reason why my application would be rejected, but my anxiety wouldn’t allow me to feel that. So to have this portion of my life here settled has been huge. It feels like the decision to live here just became real. Life has taken on a new solidity - I am not just fucking around in Ireland for no reason; rather, I am now a resident with actual civic responsibilities and ties to the country I now inhabit. But now, of course, there’s a new question: what comes next? 

With all this new bandwidth has come a sudden, pressing need to address some of the things I’ve been putting off. For example: I still don’t have an Irish cellphone. I’ve been using my American phone (and phone plan), set to airplane mode, this entire time. For months! This is the type of low-level admin task that, once completed, will make my life so much easier - but I simply haven’t have the bandwidth to handle it until now. Same goes for a couple of necessary medical appointments for both myself and Rigby, and a trove of other tasks, like ironing out how to file self-employed taxes in two countries (and the many teeny-tiny steps that a project like that entails).

My first full Irish (believe it or not) and it was eaten at a Dunnes café.

But aside from the admin tasks (which we all know make up a startling portion of adult life, whether you’ve moved countries recently or not), there are also the less tangible, but still important, ways that I’m starting to feel more settled here. My 30th birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and it was really bittersweet, as I knew it would be - I’m a person who really cares about my birthday, and we did get drinks with a small group of friends here in Dublin, but of course my mind was on all my closest friends who are in entirely different countries from me. Still, though, my family and friends have done a lot to help me feel at home here, even from far away: my mom gifted me a membership to an independent movie theater here, because going to a solo movie is one of my favorite pastimes. And Mandy gifted me a membership to the Museum of Literature, a sweet year-long present that I can’t wait to make use of (and that includes access to monthly talks from Irish authors!!).

I’ve also started to notice a newfound resilience within myself when it comes to handling mundane things here that, a few months ago, I may have found much more difficult. A couple of weeks ago I attended a book launch at Hodges Figgis, an invite from a new friend who works in publishing. There were glasses of wine going around and stacks of the author’s new book - a novel, which I eagerly purchased and got signed.

Afterwards everyone went to a nearby pub, that most Irish of pastimes. (I overheard someone ask, “are we going to the pub with the statue of the man out front?” which almost made me choke on my wine, because oh my god there are so many statues of men in European cities, how would that clarify things at all?) I love talking to new people, but I’m more of an introvert by nature, so I do better in one-on-one interactions - those feel a little more energizing to me. On this night, though, I stayed on and went to the pub. I sat in a booth with a bunch of people that I didn’t know, and I felt unsure of my place there at first, but I struck up conversations anyway.

Just someone out and about on the town!

I asked people about their jobs. (A question which quickly led me to realize what a faux pas that is in this country, but I digress.) One of the other people in the group - a man who had previously been very quiet - revealed that he was a research fellow at Trinity who was studying how best to educate teens on climate change. He told us about his project, a computer game that allows you to play as the Mayor of Dublin as you attempt to protect the city from flooding in the year 2045. I was riveted. There was this whole world in front of me, these people doing amazing things that I had never even considered. It may have been a little too American and direct to ask about people’s job, but here I was, learning something totally wonderful even after a moment of palpable (to me) cultural difference. I went home feeling totally elated, like I’d chipped through a tiny bit of a wall that I hadn’t realized was there, and now there was a bit of light shining through.

Then a few days later I took a bus into the city center to attend an evening lecture at Trinity. (The lecture was on Frederick Douglass’ autobiographical writing, and it was wonderful.) I’d been planning to attend with another new friend, but she had to cancel because of a different commitment - and I went anyway. A different bus than my usual one pulled up at the bus stop, but I was pretty confident I could still take it - I didn’t even consult Google Maps. I made it into the city, knowing intuitively where to get off in order to best access the campus. I stopped at a nearby Marks & Spencer to pick up a pair of jeans, something I’d been putting off ever since my favorite (and only) pair had badly ripped a few weeks prior. I navigated the new-to-me jean sizing, tried on a couple of pairs, and found one that suited my needs. I went on my way, stopping in for a hot chocolate at a café that I’d previously learned I liked.

I did all of that before the lecture even began, making my way through all of these stops without ever consulting a map. I sat, by myself, in the lecture hall, taking it all in, writing down notes in a little notebook I’d carried in my bag. And then I went home, on my normal bus line this time, and I thanked the bus driver as I got off at my stop because I’ve learned that’s what you do here. It may have looked like a mundane evening to a casual observer, but to me, it was a miracle.