It is kind of ironic that I came to this Island to become more reclusive. I thought I could elude the complexities of relationships by cutting off ties. I would of course nurture and cherish close relationships from afar. But the weight of my social anxiety would be more under my control. I would be so protected and insulated from the drama of others. I had become cynical as people just rubbed me the wrong way. Even the people I loved were getting on my nerves. I had walked myself backwards into my shell. It did not occur to me that I would in fact be dragged out of my shell and exposed and that social skills would be exercised, aired out every day of the week. This is not a place of the recluse. It is a place of community. The good, the bad and the ugly. People thrive on connection. It is a small town and everyone knows everyone. With pot brownies, alcohol and some illicit drugs (rumored), and nothing but time people get into a whole lot of trouble. They misbehave and the whole expat community gets to hear about it. After all, no matter how much we pretend, gossip is always fun when it is not about us. Married people come here to retire happily together and to escape the rules and conformity of society because after all the appeal of this Island is it's wildness. Marriages have to be pretty solid to survive this Island. Spending so much time with your significant other while dealing and adjusting to everyday challenges and struggles has proved too much for some. And then there are the beautiful Islanders that see their way out of poverty with the "Green-gos." Suddenly the average middle-aged foreigner is a catch. Some are naive enough to believe that money is not the major motivator here. I am by no means implying that all Islanders are gold diggers or that people have not found true love and connection. The ones that fall, fall hard. So tales drift up and down the bight.

People who were already broken or on the brink of snapping come to this wild and beautiful place and lose their last shred of sanity. They yell at neighbors, fire their guns and give the rumor mill more fodder. My goal has become to make sure that I try and avoid that fate at all costs. I will be that boring, kind, average person who doesn't get too drunk, refuses the puff of pot, and goes home clutching my husband's hand.

I will come out of my shell and connect with this community but understand that I have to walk between the lines. I have been kindly nudged back into society. My anti social ways may have been acceptable in the States but not here. Here I have to be part of the fabric of this place if I want to thrive.