I grew up as the perpetual “new kid.” With nine different schools and three continents on my resume before I was 18, I learned how to quickly make friends, and then leave them. I learned how to protect myself from the worst bits of heartbreak and how to move on quickly and do it again. I learned friendships last a year or two. I learned how to cope.

What I and other Third Culture Kids (TCKs) have learned through experience is quite a bit different from our non-nomadic peers. We tend to skip the small-talk and go straight to the deep vulnerable conversations, because that’s where bonds are built. Either that or we stay quiet and somewhat aloof, trying not to be a bother and keeping people at arm’s length in an effort to protect ourselves from the inevitable goodbyes.

As an adult I’ve taken it for fact that I will be culturally misunderstood and that relationships will probably be more valuable to me than to the other people involved. I’ve grown used to disappearing quietly and not hearing from old friends again.

I was (and am) unprepared for things to be different. And things have been different the last few years.

Old friends I live nowhere near have shown me love, have wanted me to come visit, have sacrificed for me, have looked me in the eye and sincerely told me they’re looking forward to the next visit. How do you deal with that? How do you deal with being wanted by people outside your immediate family? How do you deal with being as important to some people as they are to you?

My natural reaction is to push it aside, to tell myself people are just being nice because culturally it’s the right thing to do. I don’t have low self-esteem, but it feels supremely strange to be sincerely cared about, for friendships to carry over into the long-term. It’s new for me. And I like it.

To those in my life who won’t let me leave quietly- thank you. To those of you with TCK friends: be patient. Maintaining relationships into the long-term is not something we learn on the road.