When I first decided to start this blog, it took me a while to decide what to call it. I read a load of advice about ‘choosing the right name for your blog’, feeling a bit of a fraud whilst struggling with the prospect of becoming a ‘blogger’. I haven’t written a diary since I was about 14 but I chose ‘Diaries of a Yangxifu’ with the plan that I would write about what daily life is like as an expat in China, what it is like to be married to a local, and the joys of an intercultural relationship and life. I hoped it might help me somehow to pass the days and reflect a bit more on my new environment.
Since I started writing in July, I haven’t actually written very much about my husband, our relationship or what it’s like to be married to somebody from a different culture. We’ve been married less than half a year, so I suppose I am just starting out on this journey, but I’ve written more about my life in China as an individual, how I struggle with cultural differences as a British person and shared a few pics.
But now, on to the main topic! There certainly are differences between me and my husband, as there are between any two people. Some of them are cultural differences. They are quite marked in some places and although they perhaps don’t have too much significance at the moment, but I’m under no illusion that these cultural differences don’t matter and I know in the future under various circumstances, misunderstandings and disagreements will arise and we will face a great deal of compromise. It’s something I try not to shy away from. (Unfortunately one of the traits we do share is stubbornness, so arguments we have had to date have been ‘interesting’!)
However, there are similarities between us and this post is to acknowledge one trait in him that I particularly love: he’s silly. He is a funny, silly boy who makes me laugh. Although we were brought up in two completely different countries, 6,000 miles away, with different values, different parenting styles, different educational systems and different hobbies, he happens to be silly in the exact same way as I am.
How great it is that people from places 6,000 miles apart can connect with a sense of humour, a wonderful trait of humanity, whilst dancing around the bedroom in our underwear. This is a man who I came across by complete chance whilst he was 6000 miles from his home, on the street, by deciding to sit down on a wall for a little rest. It’s amazing and I don’t know if it’ll ever cease to amaze me. Should we go on to be married for many decades and end up sharing our whole lives together, I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. It’s nothing if not fate.
And to all the other bloggers out there who share their stories of connecting with their other half from the other half of the world, thank you. It warms my heart.