Feeling like a chicken sans a head or wings !

Sans head, sans wings !

That's how I pretty much felt for the first few months, although I put on a brave face, loved the sense of adventure and all the newness round every corner.... and felt truly emancipated.


I mean when had I ever been on an adventure on my own before ? I'm one of a twin, so I even had company in utero. And I was at boarding school almost my entire school life, surrounded by loads of girls, followed by being catapulted straight into marriage and motherhood :) 


Elizabeth Kubler Ross talks about the stages when one is confronted by terminal illness and dying - being numb, shocked, guilty, blaming God, the doctor or whoever, being in denial, trying to barter with God, etc, before reaching any form of acceptance, and as an Immigrant one goes through various stages too. 


I was excited and proud of myself for taking this plunge, but I was also in a state of deep bereavement simultaneously with the sense of adventure. All this was buffered by incredible shock and numbness, initially combined with jet lag. 


And no I didn't drink the wine in the pic; just using the pic to illustrate the metaphor for my loss of head and limbs :)