3 Cruel Lessons That Being An Expat Has Taught Me.

My thoughts 25 years after I left my home country

Would I choose to move abroad again?

This was the question I asked myself once I hung up with my sister the other day. We’ve both lived in the UK for many years and going down memory lane it’s something we do more often lately.

Could this be age?

Or perhaps it’s the pandemic that makes traveling sound so surreal?

One thing is for sure. Once you snap the umbilical cord that connects you the safety of your family you’ll learn a thing or two.

I remember vividly my clueless 18 year old self. Oh boy. I couldn’t wait to fly the nest and explore what the world had to offer.

So naive and so genuine.

Little did I know, that carefully packing my parents’ battered, old suitcase would be the first step to change my life forever.

It was the first step on a road that made me stumble more often than I could catch my breath and not giving up was the result of going with the flow rather than sheer determination.

I can’t help but wonder what my forty whatever self would say to the oblivious girl that I used to be.

Would have my bravery taken a hit? Who knows? It might’ve even stopped me from stuffing my clothes in the suitcase.

My life could’ve taken a completely different direction.

So, without further ado, here I give you three cons that outweigh the pros of moving abroad to start a new life.

Home Sickness Will Never Leave You. You Just Learn To Live With It.

Moving to Italy in 1995 was a biggie. Not many people my age had done it at the time. I was bursting with energy and couldn’t wait to experience this new world.

I felt ecstatic on the day when dragging a suitcase behind me I walked out of my family home in Hungary. My new destination filled me with fresh excitement and the feeling of complete freedom had tickled every cell of my being.

Not that I had a bad life at home, on the contrary. But even my loving parents and loyal friends couldn’t stop my urge to explore the world and learn languages. And more importantly, I couldn’t shush the eager side of me to take charge of my life. So, here I was. Geared up for the adventures ahead, without fear.

When I arrived in sunny Italy, it was like a dream come true. The landscape, the food, the box-like tiny cars (Ape), and the sexy language fascinated me instantly. I wanted nothing more than find out more about this beautiful country.

“Loving life is easy when you are abroad. Where no one knows you and you hold life in your hands all alone, you are more master of yourself than at any other time.”

Hannah Ahrendt

I’d started to work and mastered my observational skills to learn the language. I listened, talked, watched films, and asked questions. Lots of them.

I had made friends and soon picked up the language. I’d fallen in love and most of the time had earned a decent living. I’d become a cappuccino lover and had mastered eating spaghetti without smearing tomato sauce all over my face. I’d seen beautiful places and dipped into the sea for the first time in my life.

What was not to like?

Then years passed by and my initial ardour had started to fade.

I’d missed hearing the music of the crickets on the warm summer nights, or eating my mum’s chocolate sponge cake. And even listening to my grandparents’ updates on their favourite soap opera.

The feeling of missing my loved ones and the safety net my home had provided just grew bigger and bigger.

Instead, I’d worked in low-paid jobs and put a brave face on whenever I was humiliated. Sometimes, I didn’t get paid and had to rely on my savings to pay the rent. Sometimes, I felt simply unwelcome by groups of people who preferred spending their time with fellow natives.

But I accepted all this, because it was part of the package.

They say, you either take it or leave it.

I took it and with time I learned to shake things off and get on with life. Fast forward my story 25 years and I’m still an expat, but this time living in the UK.

And here’s the revelation. Missing home has never gone away. It has even become stronger. But years of experience have taught me that life is what we make it. We can cry over the decisions we’d made a long time ago, or we can use the experience to mould us into a better version of ourselves.

I chose the second option. Although without it, I would’ve never discovered the strength I have to overcome obstacles, this lesson has come at a price. A price that will never be paid off.

You Lose The Feeling Of True Belonging

It’s a real bummer.

I don’t want to make you sad, but I couldn’t leave this one out. When we live in our country we don’t question our belonging. We belong where we were born and we adapt to the culture of our country.

But what happens when you step out of the bubble and meet new cultures, languages, and people?

You change. Your horizon widens, you absorb the novelty like a sponge and you never go back to the starting point.

Every time I visit Hungary I realise the cycle of constant change, which I’m no longer part of. I no longer fully belong. I don’t know how to pay the bills, I struggle to write formal letters in my language and I wouldn’t know who to call if I needed a plumber.

On the other hand, I sometimes feel that time has never passed. People’s behaviour and some of their views have stood the test of time. I’m not saying this is wrong. What I mean is that without being open to the world and gaining new experience change will never come.

If you’re an expat you know that with every passing year you become more of an outsider and less of a true citizen.

You might ask: “ but how about the country you live in?”. I hate to break this, but it’ll never fully feel like home. It’s not your language (although you might speak it like a native), it’s not your culture (although you might prefer it to your own) and you’re not surrounded by fellow natives.

You learn to socialize and be part of a community. You might feel accepted and form friendships. You might have a family of your own, but the feeling of not fully belonging will forever linger in your thoughts.

” So, here you are. Too foreign for home, too foreign for here. Never enough for both.”

Ijeoma Umebinyuo, Questions for Ada

You Will Never Make Up Lost Time With Your Loved Ones

You know this will come and slap you in the face one day.

It didn’t take years for me to realize this. If your family is your everything, then this thought will torment you for the rest of your life.

Does this sound too harsh? That’s because it is.

You can simply not recover the time you don’t get to spend with your family. Full stop. And this is why living abroad is not for everyone.

I never got to say goodbye to my grandparents or go to their funerals. But more importantly, I never got to say goodbye to my dad who I still love so much and whom I just lost recently.

How can you work through something like this without losing your mind?

I learned years ago to express my feelings of love without shame. I learned to say: “ I love you” to my parents and this is what’s helping me through the pain. I could have lived the other end of the world, my dad would’ve known how much he meant to me.

You adapt. You develop coping mechanisms, or you pack up and leave everything behind.

And what if that’s not a feasible option? You may have a family, kids, responsibilities that you can’t abandon. And at that point my friend, it’s no longer exclusively your decision.

My son was born in the UK. This is his home. English is his first language, even if I speak to him in my mother tongue. Hungary is his go-to place in the summer, where the weather is beautiful, and gets to eat grandma’s cooking. But England is the place where he’s made friends and where he feels he truly belongs.

Final Thoughts

Would I choose to be an expat again? It’s a tricky question. If you’re like me living abroad for many years then you know that sometimes decisions are made for us. They are determined by circumstances and temporary situations.

The choice is not always conscious, or pre-determined. It’s often life taking the lead, forcing us to choose alternatives that are not aligned with our heart’s desire.

“All you will have is the present. Waste no energy crying over yesterday or dreaming of tomorrow. Nostalgia is fatiguing and destructive, it is the vice of the expatriate. You must put down roots as if they were forever, you must have a sense of permanence.”

Isabel Allende, Of Love and Shadows

Remembering our roots and maintaining our traditions no matter where we live will forever take us back home.