I turned 40 two weeks ago. The feeling is a bit surreal. On the one hand, most people tell me that I look young for my age. On the other hand, I can’t believe that I’ve completed four decades of living, and I’m disappointed that I’m not “where I should be” in my life considering that I’m a college graduate who has traveled around the world. At least that dreadful phrase “Over the Hill” has become passé.
Yesterday marked my last day of classes as an English teacher in Mexico City. I have just two weeks remaining as an honorary Chilango before it’s time to return to the U.S., where I face an uncertain future.
Deciding to leave here was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made. But I can’t stay, even if I wanted to.
Background: Lost Love
I have called Mexico City home for not quite two years. I first discovered el Distrito Federal in 2002, during a whirlwind Thanksgiving weekend trip, and have been enamored of the place ever since. I met a local girl while traveling in another Mexican city – Guadalajara – in 2011, and decided to move here – for her and for myself both – not quite one year later.
That turned out to be a mistake.