LAST UPDATE | 16 Apr
NO ONE IS afraid of getting shot here in Ireland. I realised that while I came upon the recent protests in Dublin, watching tractors fill the streets and block the roads.
As an American who just moved here, I was a little nervous when I approached because my first thought was, ‘I don’t know where the exits are. Where would a shooter come from?’
Hi, I’m Sasha. I spent the last nine years in Idaho, USA, building something I didn’t know was possible. My parents had worked hard, but neither of them ever owned a home, so designing and building my own house, while a challenge, felt like an achievement. I curated every corner of that space to reflect my soul.
American, with European roots
Leaving that house behind recently felt like leaving a piece of myself behind, too. But one day I looked around and realised the house was the only thing keeping me there.
My family lives in another state, and while the life I had built in Idaho was beautiful, it wasn’t quite mine anymore. Somewhere in the last three years, I felt a pull toward something I couldn’t fully name yet.
Sasha is documenting her new life in Ireland social media. Instagram
Instagram
My mother’s family, on both sides, left Ireland in the 1860s like so many others. Her generation was the first in our family, dating back over 100 years, to NOT marry Irish Catholics.
Instead, my mom joined Club Med, travelled the world and married a French man. I grew up between two worlds, holding a French passport but living an American life. The daughter of an immigrant, I never fully learned French, but stepped in to translate for my dad at medical appointments when needed.
I worked hard, fought for opportunities, chased the American dream, and quietly drove my health into the ground doing it. The long hours, living on caffeine and sugar, travelling 200 nights a year, left me feeling empty as a human but with a full bank account.
Business mogul Donald Trump and his wife Melania Trump arrive to a press event to announce his candidacy for the U.S. presidency at Trump Tower on June 16, 2015 in New York City. Alamy Stock Photo
Alamy Stock Photo
The problem with corporate America is that they want your time, energy, dedication, loyalty – your soul, basically. But they would drop you in a heartbeat. And the years it robs you of living and enjoying the HUMAN things of life feel like an enormous sacrifice.
I’d spend my days advocating for more pay and flexible hours to accommodate employees under me who were battling cancer and still working or losing spouses and being given four days, FOUR DAYS of bereavement leave, but to be told if they don’t like the job they can quit. And if I didn’t just focus on numbers, they’d find someone to do MY job for less. This kind of work creates a cognitive dissonance that leaves you feeling hopeless and exhausted. So my body shut down. It knew my mind and soul couldn’t thrive in that environment.
I always assumed I’d end up in France eventually. But sitting with my grandparents at the end of their lives, going to chemo with my Mémé, I felt something shift. The version of France I had always pictured myself belonging to… the one that lived in my family stories and a lifetime of visits, had been lost in ways that buried my heart in grief. The connection wasn’t there, and the door felt closed.
Ireland calling
It’s no secret that things are changing in my home country. Somehow, the American people have re-elected this dangerous individual, whose repeated racist and bigoted statements – remarks that would have ended most public careers of the past – have merely boosted his power. One who would happily drag our country into global conflicts. One with whispers of long associations with the darkest of individuals, and one whose administration is now riding roughshod over US democracy.
So many people of my generation just feel absolutely betrayed by the country we loved growing up in. I was raised in the Clinton and Bush eras, where we could impeach a president for a sex act and disagree about oil and tax laws. Yes, their times were also complex and cruel, and wars happened then, too, but back then in the US, political differences did not mean we couldn’t sit and enjoy a meal together.
Spice Bags and Potato Waffles... a whole new world in Ireland. Instagram / thesashapiton
Instagram / thesashapiton / thesashapiton
Now, it feels extremely hard to sit with people who support the Orange One and his misogynistic policies that trample all over human rights. Sitting with people who support this man’s violent greed feels near impossible. Getting out of the country and escaping the daily assaults on our OWN people by our own government feels like an insane privilege.
So when I visited Ireland a year ago, as part of a girls’ trip that I planned and hosted on social media, my whole body told me I could live here. I listened, and immediately felt at ease! In Ireland, I could sit in a pub and connect with people over a pint (they had Guinness, but I’m a bramble girl myself) and laugh, listen to trad music and feel validated in my belief that the USA is now run by an authoritarian leader. Every place I visited in Ireland was more beautiful than the next, and I found myself yearning to look at trees and hills rather than roads and concrete buildings.
I decided that was it, I was going to take the bold step and move to Ireland. The first question was whether to rent the house or sell it, but I realised no matter what, there would be no return to Idaho. Work had brought me to the Gem State in the first place, and I had evolved beyond that place. I’m grateful for the people I met and the things I did, but it was time to sell everything and move.
Making the move
That meant multiple garage sales, trips to charity shops, and letting the girlfriends who lived with me know that the house would be going on the market. With the US housing market in a slight dip, the process dragged on, at around nine months from listing to signing. I then had to pack only what would fit in five suitcases, make sure my two dogs had all they needed to come to Ireland, sell my car, and leave! The last two weeks of my life in the States were very stressful. But it paid off.
And now here I am, in Ireland, just over three weeks, and I’m already certain of one thing: I grew up inside a particular kind of fear, and I’m only now discovering what life feels like without it. Nowhere is perfect, but the US is undoubtedly at a particular point in time right now, and it doesn’t feel pleasant. I’m still searching for the part of Ireland that feels like home, but for the first time in a long time, I genuinely believe I’ll find it.
The two dogs are settling in Ireland. Instagram / thesashapiton
Instagram / thesashapiton / thesashapiton
I’m acutely aware of the housing crisis that exists in Ireland, and I’m under no illusions about the challenges that will present. I also realise there are so many people in need of housing, and it’s a tough time. But I figured I can either deal with the shite in the USA or come here and deal with the shite here. There are no guns here… so I choose the shite here. For now, I’m living near the sea in a short-term rental and trying to figure it out as I go. It will require patience.
Having been to Ireland a few times, I have to confess, the west of the country is the place that jumps out; it remains my favourite part of this island. I never imagined wanting to live near Dublin, but when I got to Dublin, I think it brought me Irish luck, with creative opportunities, new connections and a city that has surprised me completely.
So now I find myself searching for housing along the DART line, close to the sea, but ideally far from any US food chains. Who knew I could cross an ocean and find my creative dreams waiting on the other side? There’s something about being near the coast, or living on an Island, that’s good for the soul.
I’ve been documenting the journey on social media and have met the most remarkable women along the way. Nothing says you’re safe here quite like a stranger agreeing to meet you for coffee and then spending four hours of her day off showing you her town, answering every question about nightlife, transportation, shopping and dating.
So far, every woman in every town has reached the same conclusion: dating here is pointless. Irish men, I say this with love… work on your game. And your vulnerability. Don’t be shite.
Sasha is documenting her move on social media.She's aware that securing housing in Ireland will be the biggest challenge. Instagram
Instagram
Something in me says that my creativity doesn’t have to be an act of resistance anymore, but a way of life. That my nervous system is allowed to rest. That I can find the things that light my soul without bracing for impact.
Ireland vs USA
Ireland is great. Its people and their attitude… people here are GENUINELY willing to help. The women I have met see what I’ve done, call me brave and do what they can to help me along my path.
I know it rains a lot here. But I feel grateful that no child in any classroom has to worry about it raining bullets in this country. In Idaho, guns run as rampant as the deer. I don’t have to worry if the person carrying in the grocery store had a good day or not, and to make sure I seem nice just in case. It’s a new way of life here, and I know I can get used to it.
I’ll find a proper raincoat eventually. For now, I’m too busy experiencing everything for the first time: walking to the shop to get my messages, trying potato waffles that have changed my life, noticing that people look you in the eye and smile, and watching citizens protest freely without fearing their own government.
And every so often, a seagull flies over and reminds me the sea isn’t far.
I sold my house, my car, grabbed my French passport, my two dogs and moved 8,500 km to Ireland.
Am I scared?
Yes.
But do I believe I’ll find where I belong? Absolutely.
After all, I have Irish luck.
Sasha Piton is a writer and lifestyle influencer who has just moved to Ireland from the US. More at @thesashapiton.