T-minus 56 days…

The minute I stepped off that plane, I was shipwrecked and the countdown had begun… It was 43ºc, the sweat was dripping down my temples and my first thought was ‘oh Christ, what have we done?’

That was almost two years ago and tantalisingly, there are only 56 days left on the countdown until I throw myself into a Hala taxi for a thirty minute journey to Dubai Airport, never looking back, never to return.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t at all anxious. Today, for instance, I’m very much feeling anxious; trepidatious about leaving the relative comfort of this white box of an apartment to fall what feels like backwards, into my old childhood bedroom in my parent’s house. For the first three weeks I’ll be alone as I will have left my husband in Dubai to finish his contract with work, hand the apartment back and then fly home to us.

Having not lived with my parents since I left home over seven years ago, I’m hardly anticipating with enthusiasm the somewhat likely prospect of falling back into the ‘parent / child’ relationship that I am almost certainly too old and independent to welcome with open arms.

In the last 18 months of living in Dubai as the expat I am, I have cultivated a lifestyle that I would be bereft to abandon – I actually exercise four days a week in an actual gym. I actually walk 6-7k steps per day, I drink protein shakes and take creatine… and I, most importantly, actually enjoy the feeling of being sort of fit! Who knew!

Back in my teen years when I lived at home I was miserably sedentary, being fed a wonderfully wholesome yet calorific diet by my Mum who wouldn’t bristle too much if I told her she was guilty of ‘killing me with kindness’ by cooking all my favourite meals – she’s a caregiver, it’s in her nature and I won’t criticise her for that. Having said that, I cannot and will not fall back into the unhealthy life I used to have when I lived at home; I’m a grown up now and I make my own rules – I just hope my Mum can stick to them!

56 days and counting…