In 2019, I packed my life into two suitcases and stepped onto a plane with a one-way ticket. I wasn’t moving for a job or a grand adventure. I moved because I had married a citizen of another country, ready to build a life together on unfamiliar soil.

At first, it felt like a holiday. The cobblestone streets, the charming bakeries, the scent of fresh bread in the mornings—it was all so picturesque. I wandered through new neighborhoods wide-eyed, eager to embrace every cultural nuance.

But slowly, the novelty faded. Everyday life arrived quietly, unannounced, bringing with it paperwork, grocery lists, visa appointments, and moments of loneliness that no travel guide had prepared me for. And in those moments, I began to understand that moving abroad isn’t just about changing your address. It’s about undoing and rebuilding your sense of self.

The Silence of Starting Over

The early months were a blur of firsts. My partner became my interpreter, my cultural compass, my lifeline. At dinners and gatherings, I often became the quiet observer—not because I lacked opinions or stories, but because I didn’t yet have the words to share them.

The language felt like a constant riddle. I picked up words by ear, piecing them together like an unsolvable puzzle, but conversations moved too quickly for me to catch.

There’s a particular kind of isolation in sitting at a table full of people and realizing you’re present but not fully there. Smiles and nods became my defense mechanisms, my way of saying, “I’m here. I’m trying.”

Years later, I’m still learning—not just the language, but the unspoken codes of belonging. Integration, I’ve discovered, is not an event. It’s a slow, often invisible process.

The Unexpected Joys of Freedom

Yet, amid the struggles, I discovered freedoms I hadn’t known I craved:

• Personal freedom: The quiet liberation of walking down the street without wondering what others think of you. The joy of dressing for yourself—not for the gaze or judgment of anyone else.
• Safety: The deep exhale of knowing you can walk home alone at night without fear.
• Equality: A sense—subtle but profound—that you are seen first as a person, not defined by your gender or cultural background.
• Independence: Navigating bureaucracy, finding your way through supermarkets, setting up life’s small essentials on your own. Each small triumph a step toward self-reliance.

These weren’t dramatic freedoms, but quiet ones—the kind that change how you hold yourself in the world.

When Everyday Life Settles In

As the honeymoon phase wore off, the complexity of integrating into a new culture became clearer. There was a reservedness in social interactions—a politeness with boundaries, warmth that unfolds slowly over time.

Making friends as an adult is hard anywhere. Doing it in a new country, in a new language, feels nearly impossible at first. I leaned heavily on my partner for connection, but over time I realized how essential it was to build my own community, my own support system.

Job searching added to the challenge. Skills that defined my professional identity elsewhere didn’t carry the same weight here. Language barriers became silent walls, and each rejection felt heavier in a place where I was already trying so hard to belong.

What I Wish I Knew Before Moving Abroad

For anyone planning to move abroad—or standing in those uncertain early months—here are the lessons I carry with me:

• Start learning the language early: Even a little fluency will make life exponentially easier and help you feel less like an outsider.
• Build a network beyond your partner: Relying solely on one person for companionship is heavy for both of you. Join classes, attend meetups, volunteer—find your tribe.
• Step out of your shell: Resist the urge to stay within familiar cultural circles. The real magic happens when you engage fully with your new environment.
• Be patient with yourself: Integration isn’t linear. Celebrate small wins—the first time you understand a joke, make a local friend, or navigate a bureaucratic hurdle alone.
• Take care of your mental health: If you feel your mental health is taking a hit, don’t hesitate to seek professional support. Talking to someone doesn’t mean you’re weak; it means you’re strong enough to prioritize yourself.

Between Two Worlds

Years later, I still find myself suspended between identities. I’m no longer fully the person I was, but I’m not yet fully someone else either.

But there are quiet, unexpected moments—cycling through golden autumn streets, exchanging a casual “good morning” with a neighbor—when I realize I’ve built something here. Piece by piece, I am stitching together a life that feels more like home every day.

Would I Do It Again?

Yes.

Moving abroad stripped away my familiar comforts, but it gave me resilience, humility, and the courage to start over. It’s not easy, and it’s not always beautiful. But in the end, you discover a freedom unlike any other—the freedom of building a life from the ground up.

It’s messy. It’s beautiful. It’s lonely and liberating all at once. And if you let it, it will change you in ways you never imagined.