Navigating Uncertainty — In Paperwork and People

Navigating Uncertainty: Leaving Friends Behind to Find New Adventures

The Portuguese consulate appointment system shows "10 available slots" for thousands of hopeful applicants. Our FBI background checks sit somewhere in bureaucratic limbo, approaching the one-month mark with potentially another month to go. The federal government still hasn't processed my retirement pay six months after I left my job. Meanwhile, everyone keeps asking the same question: "When exactly are you leaving?"

The honest answer? We hope in May but, nothing is certain.

The Beautiful Chaos of Chasing Dreams

This is the reality of pursuing a major life change—specifically, our journey toward Portuguese residency and a completely different way of living. It's a process that requires surrendering control while simultaneously managing dozens of moving pieces, each with its own timeline and potential for delay.

The logistics alone are enough to make your head spin:

• FBI background check (required within 6 months of application)

• Portuguese consulate appointment in San Francisco (nearly impossible to secure)

• Property rental agreement in Portugal

• Portuguese bank account (recently accomplished!)

• Proof of retirement income (still waiting on the government)

• Selling two properties in the States

• The 90-day rule: We can only stay in Europe 90 days out of every 180 without residency

The backup plan involves even more complexity: if we can't get a consulate appointment but have everything else ready, we'll move to Portugal anyway, fly back for the eventual appointment, return to Portugal to wait for processing, fly back to collect approved paperwork, then return again as official residents.

Exhausted reading that? Try living it.

When Friends Start Pulling Away

There's something peculiar that happens when you announce a major move—something I first noticed back in college before leaving for military service in Italy. In those final months before departure, I watched friendships subtly shift. Phone calls became less frequent. Invitations dwindled. The easy spontaneity of hanging out seemed to evaporate.

When I finally confronted one friend about the distance, his response was both heartbreaking and completely understandable: "I guess it's just because you're leaving and I don't want to deal with that. I'm sorry, man."

It wasn't malicious. It was self-preservation.

Groups naturally coalesce around who remains, protecting themselves from the pain of goodbye by beginning that goodbye process early. It's a human response to impending loss—start grieving now to make the final separation less devastating.

We're experiencing this phenomenon again. The announcement of our European move has created an invisible barrier in some relationships. It's not that friendships are ending, but there's a subtle shift in energy, an unconscious distancing that happens when people know you're planning to leave their world.

The Paradox of New Beginnings

Here's what I've learned from previous major relocations: the same uncertainty that makes leaving so difficult often accelerates connection in new places. When you're the stranger in a foreign land, vulnerability becomes your superpower. You're forced to reach out, to be open, to say yes to invitations you might normally decline.

There's something beautiful about starting fresh in a place where nobody knows your history, your previous versions, or your old limitations. You get to rediscover yourself through new relationships.

Finding Our Tribe in Portugal

We're hoping to connect with the expatriate community in Portugal—people who, like us, chose uncertainty over comfort, adventure over predictability. These are individuals who left familiar support systems for the promise of something different, something more aligned with their values and dreams.

I'm looking for couples and individuals who share our vision of living fully:

• Deep relationships over surface-level networking

• Adventure over routine comfort

• Cultural immersion over tourist insulation

• Authentic experiences over manufactured luxury

I want to learn Portuguese, not just survive with English. I want to discover restaurants locals love, not just places with English menus. I want to walk through markets where vendors don't expect credit cards, sleep in places where street conversations drift through open windows, and navigate situations where Google Translate becomes my best friend. I don’t just want to sample curated culture, I want to dive in.

Personally, I hope to find brothers there; men of character, protectors, scholars. Men who are educated but aren’t arrogant with their knowledge. Men who are capable of expressing their feelings without needing to be coddled or who don’t do so only by displays of anger. Men who see strength and humility as companions, not opposites.

Most importantly, I'm seeking men and women of character—people who've learned that true education means recognizing how much you don't know, who extend grace when plans fall apart (because they will), and who understand that the most meaningful adventures often come with muddy shoes and unexpected detours.

Embracing the Unknown

The uncertainty is simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. We might sell both houses and find ourselves essentially homeless, living in a Portuguese apartment while waiting for bureaucratic wheels to turn. We might have to ping-pong between continents multiple times before achieving official residency status. We might spend three months in Morocco if European visa limitations require it.

But here's what I've learned about uncertainty: it's where growth lives.

Life is inherently uncertain anyway—we just usually maintain better illusions of control. This move is simply making that reality more visible. Instead of pretending we can control outcomes, we're learning to control our responses, our attitudes, and our openness to whatever unfolds.

The Heart of the Journey

At its core, this isn't really about Portugal or residency paperwork or even the logistics of international relocation. It's about choosing to live fully while we can, recognizing that life can be both short and unpredictable.

Yes, we're leaving friends behind, and that's genuinely difficult. Yes, the process is more complicated than we imagined, and that's incredibly stressful. But we're also opening ourselves to new relationships, new experiences, and new versions of ourselves that can only emerge through bold action.

The friends who matter will remain connected despite geographic distance. The new friends we'll meet are already out there, possibly going through their own uncertainty as they navigate their own dreams of European living.

Sometimes the best way to honor the relationships and life you've built is to be brave enough to risk it all for something that calls to your soul.

The appointment slots will eventually open up. The FBI check will arrive. The retirement payments will process. And someday soon, we'll be sitting in a Portuguese café, probably laughing about how stressed we were during this transition phase, grateful we had the courage to step into uncertainty.

After all, the alternative—staying comfortable but unfulfilled—is its own kind of risk, isn't it?