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Most of us do not like to dwell on the ‘m’ word (menopause) which is why I thought a safe place to mention it might be here, in my blog. Are men just as likely to be effected by issues of middle age? The term ‘mid-life crisis’ typically conjures up images of men in fast cars who ‘ought to know better at their age’. I should go no further without admitting to owning a sports car. Am I embracing my inner mid-life crisis or denying it? What I do know is I enjoy driving the car and notice occasional admiring glances as I wait for the lights to change; the looks are at the car, not its driver, but its still fun!

So do the sexes have anything in common in this regard? Clearly men and women do NOT have the same experience when they go through the menopause, men don’t have to come to terms with the undeniable knowledge that they are infertile. And yet men’s and women’s bodies are always ageing. Hormonally the changes are slower and more subtle for men, and so the physical symptoms are less profound and noticeable. To call it a male menopause at all is considered by many misleading. So how is it that a woman who feels perfectly normal around the time of mid-life, might notice her male partner is changing and having a crisis?

It seems lifestyle factors (rather than physical ones) are at play and can impact on both sexes. These are more likely to be the cause of mid life crisis in men, while women are experiencing physical changes to their bodies as well and can be hit by both – joy of joys – as if thirty years of monthly cycles wasn’t tough enough! The lifestyle factors that often impact at this time might include;

The outcome of this mid-life reality check can result in less than positive symptoms for both sexes; here are a few of them:

If you have any of these symptoms and need help, a sensible place to start would be to share them with your doctor.

Many people will experience less serious symptoms in the form of negative thoughts, such as:

At this time of year many of us can find ourselves marking the passage of time as our children have a long summer break from school. For me, this brings into awareness how my children have changed in the last year and what we are doing differently this summer as a result. In my case, two of them have reached new levels of independence, phoning friends to make arrangements and only needing help from me to get them there! That’s natural, they are maturing as they should be, but it also reminds me that they are growing up and I am growing older. I know one day they will no longer need me on a daily basis, maybe that time has already arrived for you? Embracing that life change and shift of identity can be challenging.

If you are an expatriate reader, there may be added stresses that come with living a mobile lifestyle. Perhaps missing out on regular access to long term friends; people who you could share your feelings of ageing with, joking about greying or thinning hair and so on. You may not have the benefits of a well established social life in place. If however, you have stayed in the same locale you will probably notice those around you ageing with you, which can help normalise your own. If there is no acknowledgement, even in jest, it can lead to feelings of isolation. You may not be isolated (I hope you aren’t) or you may think you are unaffected by issues of mid-life. Either way, it might be something to consider as awareness is the key to good self care.

There is plenty of advice out there, it’s not rocket science; good diet, limiting smoking and alcohol, regular sleep pattern and exercise combined with time to pursue whatever makes you happy. Ask yourself what this is? No matter how significant, it could be anything from stroking the dog to excelling at something you know you are good at.

Accept what you cannot change and embrace the positive aspects of ageing; knowledge, understanding, inner peace, increased self esteem…perhaps you would like to add your own comment to this list?

Contributed by Laura J Stephens, a British writer/psychotherapist connecting and sharing transitional wisdom.  Author of 'An Inconvenient Posting' an expat wife's memoir of lost identity Laura currently lives in the UK and blogs at http://laurajstephens.com

I am new here.

Who am I now?

Where do I fit?

Not with the blonde mothers with buggies

and toddlers,

grandparents in tow.

Not with the clean-shaven men,

passes on blue lanyards

tucked into top pockets.

Not with the freshly-wed,

brightly starting expat life

with a Club-Med posting.

How do they see me here?

The criss-crossed creases on my neck

show I am between worlds;

a decade since proud granny

clutched my toddler’s pudgy hand.

Too old and too young

for the sanctuary

of the shaded shallow pool,

letting my brown legs dangle in the cool,

blowing up arm bands

rubber rings.

I wear my empty nest

like facial hair –

with embarrassment.

I bow my head,

stare at my feet,

see only the cracks in the pavement.

Where is my community?

Where will they not see my age?

Where will I not feel out of place,

in the wrong year at school?

If I am to be a sore thumb

then tell me where I’ll find my salve.

Might it be beside the mud-blue sea,

where six stripes of breakers

fold and froth cream claws

towards a latte shore?

And then a soft breeze whips teen tendrils

against my lips.

Palm trees beckon with lithe fingers,

hearts’ tongues nod

because they know

as do I, that

my soul finds friendship with the trees,

the cicadas’ hum,

the mystery of the surf,

rough sand between my toes

and in the smiles of strangers.

FIGT regular, Jo Parfitt, is a poet and publisher who has lived overseas for 25 years now. Earlier this year she joined her husband on a three month assignment in Brunei. This was their first time without children, as theirs are now at university and in Brunei Jo found answers, solace and an outlet for her creativity in writing a blog called Briefly Brunei. The poem below is one of her first entries and will resonate with anyone who has been new in town.

Are you a slipper person?  Do you remove your shoes when entering someone else’s home?  It seems to be quite a sensitive topic and one you need to pay attention to when moving to a new country.

We wore slippers at home when I was a child in England, but it was definitely a comfort thing, like changing out of your school uniform or work clothes into something loose and comfortable.  Wearing slippers or taking off your shoes in someone else’s home would have been very presumptuous, like helping yourself from the fridge and almost bordering on an insult.

When I first arrived in Canada it was mid-winter, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw plastic boot trays inside the door of every Canadian home.  In fact I thought “What a great idea!” given the slushy and salty streets of Toronto.  But as summer rolled around and the boot trays disappeared the habit of removing shoes did not and I quickly realized it was a huge faux-pas to keep your shoes on in a Canadian home.  Walking around in stocking feet or barefoot was the accepted norm for visitors.

When we moved to Azerbaijan I found they also had the shoes by the door habit.  But they took it to the next level and provided a selection of slippers for guests to wear.  My cleaning lady looked at me in horror when she realized I didn’t have any for her to change into.  Although we couldn’t communicate verbally I definitely got the message and quickly rushed off to the local bazaar to buy a supply of cheap cloth slippers in a variety of sizes.  The students who came to me each week to practise their English had their favourite pairs and would even argue if someone took “theirs.”

In the UAE which was much more multicultural, many people didn’t even keep their shoes inside – they’d be relegated to the porch or hallway if it were an apartment building.  And the steps of the mosques would be a jumble of hastily doffed footwear 5 times a day.  How frequently did someone end up with the wrong pair, I wondered?  Was it always a genuine mistake?

This weekend I saw an online discussion on the topic.  It was interesting to see different nationalities line up on each side of the debate.  Strangely both the shoes-off and shoes-on supporters argued that their custom was more clean and hygienic.  Are bare, sweaty (and sometimes dirty, bleurgh) feet preferable to shoes worn in the street?  Is it insulting to ask someone from a shoes-on society to remove their shoes in a shoes-off home?  As someone who quickly adapted to the shoes-off rule, I was surprised at the strong resistance many had to it.  Should you adopt local customs, or is it OK to keep your own when it comes to your personal living space?  Is there a happy medium?  I’m not sure I have an answer.

Contributed by Judy Rickatson, a repatriate to Canada who has also lived in the UK, Azerbaijan, Egypt and the United Arab Emirates.  Judy manages the FIGT social media accounts when she's not working in real estate and blogs at Expatriate Life.

Our family was preparing to leave our expat posting after six years of life there.  Our four children ranged in age from seven to thirteen.  When the weeks of the ‘last times’ came, I began to be embarrassed by my 13-year-old son’s behavior.  A friend, teacher or other significant adult friend would come up and say to him, “Goodbye,  good luck, and it’s been really nice having you as a friend.”  He would look the other direction, act very uncomfortable, and then walk away. I was angry at him for being, what I considered, rude.

Upon further reflection, I realized that he had never been in a position before where he had had to say goodbye as an older child.  He actually did not know the words to say goodbye.  I had thought through what I wanted to say in farewell to people I knew in various roles: close friends, acquaintances, my children’s teachers, co-workers, co-members of groups and associations, household staff.  But I had never helped my children think through those words of farewell.

As parents, we teach our children all the polite words of our culture.  “Please”, “Thank you”, “Excuse me”, “Hello, how are you?”, “I’m fine.”, etc., are all words and phrases that we remind our children of practically in our sleep with the purpose of enabling them to function in polite society.  But I had not taught my children what to say when you are leaving someone who has been your best friend, and the likelihood is that you will never see that person again.  I had not given them those tools.  So, along with being sad and probably angry that he had to leave his home, my son was in an unknown place when it came to voicing the words that make up ‘saying goodbye’ in various situations.

In addition, I believe that saying these words provides a psychological ‘ending’ to verbalize passing through the ritual of  farewell.  It is acknowledging out loud the close of a chapter in our lives; reinforcing in another way that this is really happening, and helping us move through the experience in a more positive way.  When they don’t have these tools, our children will have feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness on top of the other difficult feelings that leaving prompts.

How can we work with our children to teach them these words?  What can we do to help them think through to whom they need to say goodbye, and what is appropriate to say in each instance?  This may change a bit from culture to culture, and also depend on the situation they are leaving behind.  But I do not doubt that a little thought and preparation in this area will go a long way in assisting your child through this time in their lives.

Here is an article you might find helpful, from the weblog of The Forum for Expatriate Management.

Contributed by Norman Viss, an expatriate coach who has many years of broad international experience working with people from a wide variety of cultures, including a 10 year span of living in Nigeria, West Africa, and 22 years in the Netherlands. Currently he lives in the Philadelphia, USA and blogs at the Everyday Expat Support Center

I can’t pretend to be a child development expert, nor a global relocation counselor, but having transitioned two children through a total of 15 schools over 3 continents in 11 years, I’ve worked out a few basic rules of my own for getting from A to B while minimizing tantrums, traumas and general rebellion. (These rules relate to the emotional transition rather than the physical ones – for my (dubious) wisdom on the rest, see the Basics – Family section.)

1. Keep them informed, but not overwhelmed.

My mother spent many years working in child development, which included doing the dreaded ‘puberty’ talks. Experience taught her that the earlier you give them information, the less intimidating it becomes and that they only absorb what they are emotionally capable of taking on, so you may have to repeat things later. This advice holds true for relocating; once you know you are moving, include them in the planning and discussions, and let them have some control over their own lives. The amount of information and input will vary according to the age of the children concerned – see the Basics – Family section for more specific information.

2. Move at the end of a vacation, not at the start.

The biggest mistake we ever made was moving to the US at the start of the summer vacation, thinking it would be exactly that – a vacation. Instead, we were swamped with paperwork, house hunting, car and home furnishing purchases and generally no-fun stuff – all with two very lonely, grumpy and unhelpful children in tow. We learned our lesson, and on the next move, we spent the summer in our old location, with the kids fully occupied with friends and us free to do a great deal of the planning, packing and paperwork in the comfort of our own home with internet, friends and leisurely goodbyes. We arrived rested at the new location, with five days to get oriented. It was enough to unpack essentials, register at school and meet a few people before the kids headed into school  and I could get on with the grunt work of establishing a new home. Within days they had friends, play dates and a routine that made them feel more secure, and within six weeks, I was once again Chief Transportation Officer for their many and varied social activities..

3. Fill the void.

For the first month or so in our new location, I plan activities geared around the children, including many things that I would ordinarily avoid like the plague. I do this for two reasons; firstly it helps to remind my children that I once was good at something other than nagging and gets them desperate to make friends and escape family outings, and secondly, it fills the time void with things they have chosen to do in the local area (and hopefully have planned themselves). I also make sure that they have unlimited texting on their cellphones (cue eye roll) and access to email and Skype, so any extra time can be filled moaning to their global buddies about just how lame their parents are. It’s a strange form of normal, but it bridges the gap remarkably well..

4. Expect issues.

The more they transition, the more they understand the process of relocation, but sometimes that works against you, and you get a stubborn, unwilling teenager on your hands who can make your life a living Hell. I’d like to offer sage wisdom to get you through it, but all I can really say is that it is our fault so deal with it as best you can.Robin Pascoe’s excellent books are a great place to start, and in most cases it will work itself out once they start to make friends and establish their own life. If necessary, get counseling for whoever might need it – either with a local family therapist, or via online expat counseling.

Finally, bear in mind that you are under a great deal of stress, and so you will almost certainly be taking this very personally. Sadly, no-one has written the definitive, foolproof instruction manual for raising children in a static environment, let alone a nomadic one, so just give yourself a break, remind yourself that no-one is perfect, and we are all doing the best we can. If you need evidence of how badly the rest of us are doing at the whole global parenting thing, check out theTrailing Spouse  blog. You are in excellent company..

Losing our loved ones is never easy but when distance intervenes, too the heartbreak is tainted with guilt. Apply Gidley’s tale of losing her father reflects a painful reality of expat life and expat death.

By Apple Gidley

The list of where I've been is long, from Papua New Guinea to Equatorial Guinea with many countries in between. It's been a nomadic life that started with my first posting – at one month old – to Kano in Northern Nigeria: a life of expat living. An exciting and privileged life full of different cultures and peoples, a roaming life. 

But for the expat, dying is different. 

Distance precluded the drama of my grandparents dying. Forty years ago there was never any question of flying back from the depths of Africa. Flowers were sent, quivering lips stilled and life in a foreign land continued stoically.

But with the jet age has come the need to attempt to get "home" in time for death. Assuming, of course, the death is anticipated. When it is not, the guilt of living la vida loca is palpable.

And death sometimes occurs the other way around. When the expat is doing the dying, the agony is often deeper and angrier, for those at "home".

Along with the ease of travel has come an expectation that we can get wherever we need to be with the swipe of a credit card and a hastily packed carry-on. But life and death don't always play fair. 

For the past few years, I have been part of what the experts call "the sandwich generation". My children became young adults based in England along with their five grandparents, and we were across the Atlantic.

No amount of preparation is enough for the phone call that bounces through the stratosphere. Death five times in the last four years has been difficult.

"Cancer. A couple of months," the doctor told me. "No need to panic, get here when you can, but probably sooner rather than later." 

My work in Houston is not vital. The stock exchange will not shatter, the bayous will not dry up. And the beauty of being a writer is that a notebook, whether electronic or paper, can be taken anywhere. 

But I was stymied by a volcano with a name that few broadcasters on either side of the Atlantic can pronounce, spewing angry ash into the heavens. Airspace was closed but it was OK, I had two months. Maybe. 

I phoned the hospital daily for four days. My father sounded more relaxed now he no longer had to pretend all was well. 

"Hi Pops," I said when I phoned. "How are you doing? Are the nurses nice?"

"Hello Sweetie," he replied. "Yes they are very kind. I'm allowed a glass of whisky in the evenings now."

"Oh that's great! Taking your pills without it would probably kill you," I joked.

He laughed. "Are you coming soon, Sweetie?" 

"Yes Dad, as soon as the ash clears I'll be there." 

As we signed off, promising to speak the next day my father said: "Those bloody Icelanders – first their bank and now their volcano!"

I laughed and I never spoke to him again. The next morning, as airlines and governments deemed it safe to fly, he died. Five days after his diagnosis, and prognosis. 

"Thank God, it was mercifully quick," my mind says. "No, no, no," my heart cries, "I didn't say goodbye." 

Being on the first flight out of Houston meant nothing. My mother's words came back to me as I watched the flight map blip across the Atlantic, far south of its usual route. 

"It's just the way it is, Apple," she'd said through tears 45 years ago, after the telegram was delivered by a Malay on a bicycle, telling of her stepmother's death. 

As someone who has also chosen to live a nomadic life I have no right to complain and I don't. But what is certain is that no amount of excitement can compensate for a lost moment. A chance to say goodbye. 

It is an expat life we choose, but expat death is another story. And no one will ever call me Sweetie again.

Apple Gidley is a full-time writer, now based in Houston, who has relocated 26 times through 12 countries. Author of Expat Life Slice by Slice and a former FIGT board member and keynote speaker, she is known to thousands as ExpatApple thanks to her popular blog at the Daily Telegraph.

It was a challenge to leave Texas. In some ways I could have spent my entire Senior Gap Year here. The Road Trip could have been done in this state alone; but, my focus was on driving as much of the actual route my fore-parents had done as pioneers....though, I repeat: they did in a Conestoga Wagon and my husband and I preferred the Nissan 2012.This Texas is aland where the state flag has a legal right to fly at the same height as the national flag. It's a land, and a state of mind with an outlook so different from any other in America. 

My friend Jacqueline, (photo in last blog entry) shared this story about her family's pastor, and his introduction to the Texas State of Mind. He had recently moved from Arkansas to Allen,Texas; and said he was in his front yard one day when a car was slowly driving by and the driver, having finished his fast food soda; tossed it out the window.

Unfortunately (for the car driver) there was a truck right behind him, with a Texan behind the wheel. Immediately, the truck driver zoomed around the car and slowed up so the car would come to a standstill. 

The truck driver's window opened up and out came a gun, pointing at the car.

"Pick......it....up." said the truck driver, politely', firmly; and with a gun pointing directly at the car driver.

"What!" exclaimed the car driver. 

"I said, 'PICK it up-now!" the gun pointed to the offending litter of a large soda cup complete with straw on the street.

The car driver jumped out of the car and scooped up the empty drink cup (and straw, taking no chances now), and quickly got back behind the wheel. 

"Thank you," said the truck driver, pulling his gun back in the window. He then drove off, and so did the very rattled car driver.

"Texans. They have their ways," said the Arkansas pastor. 

Yes, they do; and I give thanks for what at times seems like a crazy heritage, but is beginning to make sense for what could be even crazier reasons.

Contributed by Kathleen McAnear Smith, speaker and author of Parents on the Move and Beyond Broken Families. Kathleen divides her time between Florida, the UK and Italy and blogs at KathleenMcAnearSmith.com

There are many things to consider when planning for a global career transition, regardless of the country you are moving from and regardless of the country you are moving to. Here’s a 5-step pre-departure job search checklist.

1. Develop your action plan. 

You will need to begin developing an action plan. Develop your action plan before you depart, if possible, and keep it handy because you will refer to it regularly throughout your transition and during your time in the destination country. As well, you will need to ensure your action plan refers to future transitions to other countries or back to your home country. Your action plan should include your career goal(s), your approach to your job search, visa/work permit info, resources, strategies, contacts, business culture information, and other relevant information.

2. Get strategic about networking and identify target organizations.

You will find many resources available to you in your destination country to make great contacts, such as expatriate groups/networks, Chambers of Commerce, international women’s associations, and many more organized groups. Try to avoid relying on just one or two resources. Using a variety of networking resources will help to ensure balance in your approach to your job search.

Although it can be daunting trying to go through myriad online resources to find organizations in different countries, it is important to develop a list of 15-20 target organizations. There are many websites that have lists of organizations. The country-specific Chambers of Commerce can be found on the International Chambers of Commerce website. You may be able to find listings of companies and organizations by looking up the different country Chamber sites.

3. Find out the restrictions and permissions for working in the country. 

You will want detailed information about the work permit process, such as what documents are needed, how long each will take to process and whether your nationality may cause any delays, etc. You can contact the country’s embassy or consulate in the country where you currently reside. 

4. Learn the business etiquette and communication culture. 

You can learn the dos and don’ts for the destination country by keeping your eye on this blog. Members who have access to the password-protected Passport Career country portfolios should review the business culture sections for the destination country. There are also some great websites and books out there that cover this topic by country. Do not let this important knowledge/skill slip. You must know the key business culture to be effective with your networking and your job searchundefinedeven when connecting with the expat community!

5. Create a networking resume/CV. 

Create a resume/CV appropriate to the standards in your destination country to use for networking purposes and gather relevant papers that may be requested to be submitted with your CV/resume.  What documents might you need? Plan to take copies of the following: transcripts from your college, vocational or other educational institute (if you have numerous degrees, then you will need copies of each), awards and training activities, proof that you attended relevant conferences (usually only needed if you have a certificate from a training at a professional conference), and other related documentation.

Preparing for job seeking in another country requires a lot of work, but your preparation will reduce the frustration once you arrive at your new destination. Many people fail to prepare well when crossing borders with their careersundefinedeither because they don’t have the time, they don’t think about it, or they simply do not know what steps to take to prepare adequately. However, we strongly encourage you to spend some time on these 5 steps before you depart so you can get started with a solid step forward in your job search. 

Good luck with your global job search!

Contributed by Susan Musich, Executive Director & Founder of Passport Career, a comprehensive, online global job search support system.  She is currently serving on the Board of Directors of FIGT and blogs at PassportCareer.com

Long term scarcity in supply of food is thought to be the reason we now store energy from food at a significantly quicker rate than we can lose it.

It seems the majority of us have evolved in a way that shifts the odds in favour of survival, but not everyone’s metabolism works in this way – you probably know at least one person who can eat more or less what they want and still look like a ‘runner bean’ or maybe you are one of those fortunate people? If not, you can comfort yourselves with the notion that should food ever be in short supply, those with an inclination to store fat, will survive longer than the skinnies amongst us

The reality of being spoilt for choice and bombarded with high fat/sugary foods, often with little or no nutritional value, means this biological gift of efficient storing is now working against us (at least in the western world); a point that was highlighted to me when I attended a three day course for therapists entitled ‘Emotional Eating’ run by Professor Julia Buckroyd.

Fortunately, Julia Buckroyd has also written a very helpful book about our relationship with food and specifically disordered eating. Her book Understanding Your Eating discusses the reasons behind those patterns which cause us distress (usually when they are experienced as beyond our control) whilst also shining some much needed light on why diets don’t usually work as a long-term solution to being overweight.

Many of us will recognise the process of being able to galvanize oneself for a short period of time to lose weight, only to put it all back on afterwards; it is extraordinarily wearing and  leaves some feeling desolate.

Weekly weigh-ins and support groups offer encouragement and support, but what happens after the target weight has been achieved and you no longer attend? Many people struggle to maintain their desired weight because their emotions are entangled with their eating habits, and unfortunately that issue is no more resolved at the end of the diet than it was at the outset.

“Are you eating your emotions?” is a question posed by Julia Buckroyd. If we reflect honestly on the feelings that have accompanied significant fluctuations in our weight, we may realise we have a habit of ‘eating our worries away’. When we find ourselves experiencing high levels of stress, over eating or not eating enough, can be a way of channelling our unmanageable feelings.

Having control over our food intake, when another significant aspect of our life is very much beyond our control may be an unconscious source of comfort – a coping mechanism of sorts, even if this means eating significantly more (or less) than our body requires.

For me that moment came when I had moved continents and found myself isolated, and unable to follow my profession. Suffering a loss of identity, the wakeup call came a few months into the posting after complaining to my family, “that American washing machine is shrinking all my clothes”. Hah! Everyone else looked blankly back at me; I was the only one struggling to do my jeans up and the washing machine was working just fine…

Eventually, our sea container arrived with our worldly goods and as I was reunited with my bathroom weighing scales, the unpalatable truth emerged – I had achieved a significant gain in weight without even noticing I was eating more than usual.

With hindsight, I can see I struggled to come to terms with my new situation and in the throes of culture shock and isolation I had taken to self soothing, with rather a lot of nibbles… The unspoken message rebounding in my head; I deserve it, don’t I?

A number of staples in my diet were different from those I was used to or simply not available in my local Houston supermarkets. I remember low fat/low sugar yoghurts seemed difficult to find and encountering more sugar in bread was another unexpected difference. I soon learned to live without the yoghurts and bread by supplementing with replacement items – I ditched my toast and marmalade and became a committed porridge eater for the rest of the posting! Big deal, not a great hardship… After all some of the new dishes I was trying were exciting and delicious (Tex-mex and prawn gumbo being two of them!).

More challenging, were the difficult feelings I struggled to manage. Eventually they needed acknowledging and reconciling, and with help I was able to do this. In the process of regaining my happiness and equilibrium my eating habits returned to normal and I enjoyed being more active again.

So do a few extra pounds really matter? Arguably not, unless you need to be slender for your work… a dancer perhaps. Most people would agree, that it begins to matter if the excess ballast you are carrying (or severe lack of it if you are significantly underweight) has become a threat to your health. In my case, it was simply another thing about myself that didn’t feel right at a time when everything else was unfamiliar. In short, the irony of putting on weight was that my sense of identity was further eroded by the reflection in the mirror – I did not feel ‘normal’ inside or out! So it felt important to get back to being my usual size.

I believe our identity is in part wrapped up in how we look and what our body and our clothes unconsciously tell the world about us. For example, we might be keeping people at a distance by being very large or unconsciously defending ourselves from intimacy? Perhaps we are undernourished and too thin, what does that say about our self worth if we are starving ourselves.?

Contributed by Laura J Stephens, a British writer/psychotherapist connecting and sharing transitional wisdom.  Author of 'An Inconvenient Posting' an expat wife's memoir of lost identity Laura currently lives in the UK and blogs at http://laurajstephens.com/