No one told me about the guilt of moving away from home to build a life of my own

Even as a child, Manon Gilbart had a desire to live and work abroad. An ambition fulfilled in 2021 with her move to Ireland. Here, she recounts how that move has left her feeling a measure of guilt

Manon Gilbart and her mum, Laurence Gerbayhaie.

I must have been 12 when I first told my parents that I would move abroad someday. But I never realised how guilty I would feel for living far away from home.

Over the years, the destination of my dreams might have changed but the feeling of not belonging in my home country never left me.

Prior to moving to Ireland in 2021, I had travelled by myself and lived in Scotland for a short spell. But when I hugged my parents goodbye at Brussels Airport, something felt different. It was a case of leaving and knowing you’ll never want to go back.

I never cry in public but that day, I sobbed while I walked through security, catching a last glimpse of my mum waving at me.

It was my dad who first pushed me to learn English. He was always abroad for extensive periods because of his job. By age 12, I had started teaching myself the language, feeling like what I was taught in school wasn’t enough.

The goal was always crystal clear: to become a journalist and live abroad. I’ve since reached my goal, but I wasn’t prepared for the guilt that I would feel.

I love home, I do. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore, it feels familiar. Whenever I go back to Belgium, I’m delighted to be there, to see my family and friends.

On the plane back to Ireland, there’s a hint of sadness. But by the time I reach Limerick, I feel relieved. Relieved that I’m back where I feel the most content, where I’ve built a life all by myself.

It’s funny how the thing that brings me the most pride, is also the one that brings guilt.

I love my life here, but I am also aware of how much I am missing. The milestones, the birthdays, the engagements, the day-to-day moments.

I don’t visit as much as I’d like to. Whenever I’m back, I can’t help but notice strands of hair getting greyer and overhear that some bodies are becoming rather frail.

It makes me want to hold my loved ones tighter, but it’s not enough to make me move back home — as much as I hate to admit it. I wish it was.

Manon Gilbart as a baby and her mum, Laurence Gerbayhaie

There’s an extra layer to it as well. My mum suffers from Ménière’s disease and on top of it, had her fair share of health issues throughout the years.

My mum has always been my biggest supporter, and she knows I feel happier here, that I’m chasing after my dreams — as silly as it may sound. Over the years, we’ve grown closer and I tell her absolutely everything.

There is not a day that goes by when I don’t call her. But since her diagnosis, the guilt has intensified.

Ménière’s disease is an inner ear problem that can cause dizzy spells, also called vertigo, and hearing loss.

I’m hundreds of miles away from her and sometimes can’t help but feel like I’ve abandoned her.

When I’m home, I see my mum struggle with the slightest noise. On top of that, she has severe algodystrophy as a result of extensive surgeries, which makes it difficult for her to travel far away.

Whenever I’m experiencing something new or going to a place she has never been, I feel guilty and selfish — and I wish she was with me.

I’ve talked about this to my mum on many occasions. Most recently, when I told her I was thinking of writing this piece — and asked if it would be okay with her.

When I asked her if she ever thought of living abroad, she said she “never thought about it”. But that perhaps someday she could “live abroad for a bit” — but she doesn’t see herself making a definitive move.

She would describe herself as a home-bird and feel at her happiest back in Belgium, whereas I’ve always had the travel bug.

I’m usually not one to care about social media trends, but there is one I find quite lovely.

It’s all about ‘realising your mum is living for the first time too’. You might not always understand each other but be kind and accept it.

On Instagram and TikTok, people share stories of the places they bring their mum too, the food they try together, the experiences they live for the first time.

I would love nothing more than to partake in that trend.

My mum and I might have different perspectives on life, but we’re alike in so many ways. We share the same eye colour, and our dimples show tremendously when we smile. We are both stubborn, and we both could listen to Elvis on repeat for days. We’re both allergic to cats but can’t resist petting them, regardless of the reaction it might cause.

Despite the hardships that have been impacting her life, she never let them take over. My mother is the kindest and strongest woman I know — I can only hope to, someday be, a fraction of the woman she is.

I was honest with her about the guilt I feel, and it took me some time to admit it. When I asked her what it was like for her when I moved, she said:

“There’s an emptiness, a void, but I know that’s what you’ve always wanted and that’s what makes you happy. Of course, I worry about you but I’m also proud. That’s what love is, I let you go because I knew how important it was for you.”

I just wish that instead of sending her pictures of the places I visit; she could be there to experience them with me.