The lawyer who teaches soccer

Photo by Frantzou Fleurine on Unsplash

The physiotherapist who works in the pharmacy, the executive who babysits children, the lawyer who teaches soccer.

You leave your country behind believing that you took into account a broad range of possibilities. You saved some money, prepared your children, picked the best pictures to hold onto when the nostalgia hits, and, of course, considered the risk of stepping back in your career to be able to fit in a job market where, sooner or later, you will catch up.

After all, you have devoted yourself. You got into college and toiled during the internship before getting hired. You worked overtime until you started being promoted. You missed out some family birthdays while on business trips and came home countless times when you kids were already asleep. By the time you began to hold prominent positions, you bought a good car, upgraded your phone every year and started collecting award winning wines. You have considered a lot before deciding, based on irrefutable reasons, to leave a comfortable life behind and start over.

Obviously, you did your homework by talking to some acquaintances about the local job market, researching the best companies in the area and translating your resume. A highly skilled professional like you — everyone insists — who would not appreciate?

Welcome, new immigrant, to the country where there is a profusion of professionals as qualified as you are, only more respected. It doesn’t take long to realize that some of your assets turn into commodities among those who, in addition, fluently speak the language you are just learning, have a network, childhood friends and graduated from colleges whose names, every employer knows.

Professional comfort is one among the many we give up when we decide to pack our life and start over. Some people insist and accept to step back (a much bigger step than imagined) so as not to leave the career that defines them as much, or even more, than their own ID. But there are also those who struggles to make ends meet while the financial reserves runs out or simply can no longer wait for the stressful diploma revalidation process and need to reinvent themselves. That is how speech therapists who learn how to sell clothes are born, as well as publicists who spend their days translating texts and journalists who work in telemarketing.

It’s no use saying it’s easy before trying. It isn’t. I know people who say they would have no problem washing floors without having ever washed their own. It takes a while for us to recover our self-esteem from the knockout, accept the fact that we are newborns in a new society and learn how to integrate.

If it’s going to be temporary or definitive?

Well, that will depend on several other factors. Including the risk you take of falling in love with the freedom of giving yourself a chance to try different paths.

About the Author
Nurit Masijah Gil is a Brazilian-Israeli writer with nearly 100 chronicles published in Portuguese in both countries. In 2014, she launched her book titled "Little Ms. Perfect," in which she tells about her tragicomic wife-and-mom life. In 2017, she moved to Israel with her family. In 2019, she changed her busy suburban life as a content writer at a startup company, in Israel's central region, for a peaceful life at her own oasis at the Arava desert -- a 1,000-member ishuv -- where she has crowned her aliyah.
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