It’s been exactly three months since I’ve moved to the UK. I’m nearly settled in (except for our non-existent kitchen) and have a weekly routine now. Slowly but surely, the UK is becoming my home.

I have definitely not been blogging as much as I want to nor as much as I should to keep everyone in the US updated, but it honestly hasn’t been a priority since I’ve been here. There are so many other daily challenges to navigate, and since half of my job is now creating verbal content, sometimes I feel like my brain runs out of words. (Is that even possible?)

Just recently, I was talking to a friend who studied abroad in England, and she was curious about the everyday surprises and adjustments that I’ve had to make since living over here. I think everyone who has lived abroad understands that even though so many things can be similar around the world, there are those simple differences that no amount of tourist travel can adequately prepare you for.

So what are those simple and everyday differences? Here are the 10 everyday adjustments I’ve made since living overseas:

One: Driving isn’t that bad.

Easily, the number one question I get from both Americans and the British is about how hard it is to drive over here. Admittedly, I was very nervous to drive for the first time (and maybe the 10 times after that, given that I whacked a wing mirror off in the first two days of driving here). There are still some situations that I feel really uncomfortable in – like navigating the extremely narrow roads – I’ve surprised myself at how quickly I picked up driving.

I will caution though; I spent a significant amount of time in England before we moved here, visiting Martin’s parents and watching him race. I had already adjusted to the very weird sensation of being a passenger on the other side of the road and going clockwise around a roundabout. That definitely gave me good advantage when starting out driving.

Two: I forget basic details about my current life on an almost daily basis.

Maybe this happens to people who move often, even if it’s in the same country, but I had to change everything when I came to the UK. That means a new address, new cell phone company, new cell phone number, new bank, new bank account, new bank account password, new PIN, new job, new work address, new work phone number, new car model and year, and I could go on. Plus then I have my parents’ address and phone numbers to memorize as my official US residence.

I forget parts of this so often I have it all written down. Any time I make an official phone call, I open the papers with this information on it so I can remember it. And it doesn’t help that the addresses and phone numbers are not in the same format as they were in the states. Slowly but surely, I’m beginning to get all of this information memorized, but the new information is fighting the old information for space in my brain.

Three: British English is not American English.

To be fair, I knew this before living here, but now it is a part of my every day thought pattern. For one, in my new job, I write…a lot. I’m currently working on a company rebrand and new marketing materials. I’m also the resident wordsmith. When people need material jazzed up a little or an official document written up, they come to me. But my American-isms stand in the way of their British-isms inside my head. Yes, I know the theater/theatre, color/colour, traveling/travelling differences, but did you know there are several other style guides for use in British writing?

Strunk & White and the AP Stylebook were my bibles for writing. Now I use the University of Oxford Style Manual and BBC Style Guide, and while the changes aren’t drastically different, being aware of the differences is what makes me potentially great at my job, versus looking like an American wrote it.

I also use quite a lot of brain power on ensuring that when I speak, I a.) use the appropriate British word when I know it, and b.) don’t say anything offensive. I’ve been caught unaware saying offensive things to the British a time or two – while I was living in America. And when it was on my home turf, I felt like I could defend it, apologize, and move on. But here? Fortunately, my accent gives me away, but when you are seemingly a guest in someone else’s country, you don’t want to make a bad name for “all Americans.”

Four: Every time I speak, I get into a discussion about America.

Please don’t get me wrong when I say this, as I love my country, but I spend an exorbitant amount of time talking about America here. Sometimes I just want to buy my train ticket and move along. Yes, I realize it’s because I’m an anomaly here, especially in a small village. And yes, I do realize people are fascinated, and I continue the discussion in order to be polite. But sometimes, knowing that I will have to stop and chat about America keeps me from saying more than one word at a time to any cashier.

I know this would be less exhausting if American politics weren’t the highlight of the world news reel every night, and I could get back to talking about New York and Las Vegas and Orlando (for some reason, these are the three cities everyone here knows about). But almost every casual chat leads into, “What do you think about Trump?” In which moment I thank my pageant experience for giving me the talent to answer any political question in a non-offensive manner in 20 seconds or less.

Five: The grocery store is the most overwhelming place on earth.

Let me explain. For one, I’m used to grocery shopping in the middle of the day on week days, and now with a full-time job, I’m shopping with seemingly every other working adult in a 30-mile radius. Secondly, the shopping carts (err…trolleys) have all four wheels on a swivel mechanism. For reference, in the US, most carts only have two wheels on a swivel. That means that in the UK, you have to use your entire body force to turn a full cart, people can easily cross the aisle horizontally, and they do not use the aisles like the road – up one side and down the other. People are quite literally everywhere. It is pandemonium.

The third challenge is that I don’t recognize the packaging on a vast majority of the products I’m used to buying. I didn’t realize how much of my repeat purchasing was based on packaging. Shampoo? White and turquoise bottle with orange print. Greek yogurt? White cup with a giant zero on it. Have you ever had your favorite brand change your packaging and struggle to find it on the shelf? That is my entire shopping trip now.

Fortunately, some really great effects are coming out of this issue. I’m choosing fresh foods more often because a vegetable looks like a vegetable in any country. And two, I’m eating the same foods almost every single day. I read an article several weeks ago about decision fatigue, and it completely resonated with me. Especially now that I’m faced with new decisions and situations every second of every day, I absolutely know I have decision fatigue. And by eating the same few things every day, I can use my thought energy on more important decisions. Like what side of the road to drive on.

Six: There is so much less sugar in the food here.

This one completely surprised me and at the same time, it didn’t. Americans have tons of added sugar in the processed food, and it’s something we’re so used to. Our taste buds have adjusted to these high amounts of sugar. So much so that when I ate similar foods here, so much of it tasted bitter to me in the first two months.

 Yes, we’ve all heard the jokes about bad British food, but when everything I tasted had the same sort of bitter taste, I realized that it had to be the lack of sugar. When I compared similar food’s nutritional information, it confirmed my thoughts. And now, the more I eat and the more time I’m here, I realize the food isn’t bitter at all and that my taste buds are adjusting.

Seven: Built-in storage isn’t a common concept.

Storage space across the pond is at a premium. Most houses (unless they’re new builds modeled after American-style homes) don’t have closets or other built-in storage. This completely blew my mind when Martin and I were real estate shopping and has been a daily issue as we still settle into Holly Tree Cottage. Fortunately, previous owners of the cottage installed a wall of closets in what is now the master bedroom and built bookcases in the library so we at least have a place to orderly organize our belongings out of the way of public sight.

I catch a lot of flack about the master bedroom-turned-closet, but believe me when I say it was a necessity to have an entire room of storage for clothes, bed linens, towels, and toiletries. Plus, it’s really really pretty (insert eyelash bat here).

We are in desperate need of storage solutions in this house, and fortunately, because we’re in the same no-closeted boat as everyone else, storage solutions are readily available in most major retailers. We’re putting drawered units everywhere in the house – under the TV, in the hallway, in the bathrooms, in the dining room – everywhere.

This also means we’re cutting the clutter. I can’t tell you how much I’ve donated since we’ve moved. Partly out of necessity, but partly because I pull items from boxes and think, “Do I really need to use precious storage space on this? Nope.” Life is easier with less stuff. We cleared out a ton before the move, and as each box is unpacked, I’m definitely enjoying getting rid of the items we don’t use.

Eight: I don’t live in a city anymore.

Yes, my address in the states said “Carmel,” which I know is a suburb, so all you downtown Indy folks, don’t harass me. But I was less than half a mile from the Indianapolis city limits and within 20 minutes of the greatest restaurants, nightlife, and culture. I could literally walk to Target, a convenience I cannot emphasize enough. But we heard the highway noise, had significantly less land, and were under the governance of an HOA. Blech.

Martin and I have chosen to live on the outskirts of a village here in England. A village. Not a town, as that would be entirely too big to describe our just-under-1000-person glorified neighborhood. (For reference, my high school had 2,000 students. This is a significant life change.)

Our particular village is stunningly beautiful. A 13^th century church that you can see from miles away stands proud in the heart of the village. A creek runs alongside our house, and is a significant enough landmark that we can describe the location of our house using it. And because we’re on the edge of the village, our property backs up to hundreds of acres of farmland and a view we couldn’t have imagined when we were tucked away in our suburban neighborhood.

But with this glorious village lifestyle comes inconveniences. First of all, there is no Target here (excuse me while I raise an online petition to bring Target overseas), and to get any real shopping done doesn’t just involve hopping in the car and driving 15 minutes to Keystone. Fortunately, we live near the second largest city in England, Birmingham, which is similar in size and feel to Chicago. And the easiest way for us to get there is to take the train (pause for a moment of appreciation for amazing public transportation here in the UK). But any kind of true shopping involves a decent amount of planning and at least half a day.

I’ve been told of the wonders of Amazon Prime, and apparently every major grocery store here will deliver to your house for free. Those are both on my checklists of things to try, because nothing could make me trade this house and these views, even my addiction to fine womenswear.

Nine: I have to find new everything.

This is another one that I know comes with moving anywhere, not just with moving to a new country, but it has probably been one of the most difficult stressors. At home, I had my regular places for everything – dentist, gym, Pilates classes, Chinese food, nail salon, hair stylist, coffee, healthy gourmet food, and the list goes on. I even had this in two cities for when we were down in St. Petersburg, Florida.

I am now on the hunt for finding these things all over again. Every time I want to do anything, I’m reliant on Yelp, word of mouth, and Apple maps. And even then, there’s no guarantee that it will be right for me. I’ve learned the hard way that parking isn’t promised (and if it’s there, will cost you a couple pounds), and that anyone can make a pretty website with stock photos that doesn’t accurately reflect their business.

It is a huge relief, however, when you find something that just fits. I can’t tell you how excited I was when I tried my first bootcamp class at the Snowdome, and it lived up to Sean Bartram’s Apex classes. And then there was the day that we found our new “local,” a pub that actually has more than just your standard fish and chips. I’m still on the hunt for an acai bowl, a Harry & Izzy’s-level steak restaurant, a nail place, and a salon outside of London that I will trust to touch my hair. But I’ve made a start and am venturing out to try new places almost every weekend.

Ten: I make it a point to surround myself with and appreciate simple joys.

With the minimalism that comes with lack of storage space, the isolation of moving to a new place, and the general stress of completely changing my life, I am constantly aware of my stress levels, breathing, and general mood. Moving countries is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I don’t want it to be at the expense of my mental health.

The beautiful side effect of this is that I’m also aware of what brings me great joy. Not the false sense of fleeting excitement, but joy that stirs the soul. And because I’m starting anew, I have the ability to build my life on the things that truly make me happy.

Martin and I have made concerted efforts to sit down together for dinner. I see the happiness on Grace and Tucker’s faces when we go for walks. Group exercise classes get my endorphins pumping and make me feel part of a community. Playing the piano and learning new music challenges me in new ways. I love spending time outside (yes, even in the infamous British rain) and working on making the cottage feel like a home. Spending time with family and friends – mostly through FaceTime these days – helps me feel less removed and more connected to the people I love. And honestly, living with fewer possessions has been quite freeing.

Living abroad has its challenges, but it is also an exercise in patience, resiliency, and strength. But by living outside of my comfort zone, I’m able to craft what that comfort zone will be in the future.