From my people. From my rhythm. From the time on the clock.
One of the most unexpected challenges of emigrating to the U.S. wasn’t the paperwork or packing or even missing my family— it was the quiet, constant disconnection caused by time itself.
South Africa is 6 (sometimes 7) hours ahead of us here in Florida. And while I still work for a South African company (hello, 4 a.m. wake-ups!), I quickly realised that syncing lives across continents isn’t as simple as setting an alarm.
I’d glance at the clock, thinking “I’ll call my sister!” — only to realize she was fast asleep. And by the time my day wrapped up, theirs was already over. Weekends didn’t align. Holidays didn’t match. Their sunny December beach days arrived while we were still figuring out how to defrost the car and make peppermint crisp pudding without Peppermint Crisp.
Even birthdays feel… different. I used to be a December baby in full summer swing. Now, at my age, I’ve had to learn what it means to have a winter birthday.
Let’s just say that by this point in life, some things feel pretty set in stone — and unlearning them takes more than just a coat and gloves.
It wasn’t just about missing them — it was the timing that made me feel like I was orbiting a little further from their world.
Over time, we’ve found new ways to stay connected: scheduled calls, photo dumps, and moments shared in different time zones but with the same love.
If you’ve ever felt this kind of “time-zone tug” — between where you are and where your heart is — just know you’re not alone. It does get easier. You find your rhythm. You create new ones. And somehow, life expands to fit both.
