Adjusting to Life Abroad: When Everything Is Working, but You Still Don’t Feel Like Yourself

There’s a point in adjusting to life abroad that doesn’t really come with a clear name. You don’t arrive in it suddenly; a lot of times, there’s no big moment that marks the shift. You just start noticing small things that don’t quite line up with how things look on the surface.

On paper, you look like you’re functioning. You know the systems. You can manage conversations and are no longer in constant problem-solving mode. You’ve figured out most of the practical stuff, and daily life runs more smoothly than it once did.

And yet, something feels off.

It’s not a crisis, and it may be hard to explain to the people around you. Maybe you feel more tired than you expected, less motivated, and less in tune with yourself than you usually do. Maybe you even catch yourself thinking, I should feel more settled by now.

That thought alone can be unsettling, because when everything seems to be working, it’s hard to know what to do with a feeling that says something still isn’t right.

When the Obvious Challenges Fade, and Something Else Takes Their Place

Most people expect living abroad to be hardest at the beginning, and in many ways, it is. The early phase is full of visible challenges. There’s language barriers. Administrative headaches. Cultural misunderstandings. Loneliness with a clear cause. You can point to those things and say, That’s why this feels hard.

But later on, when many of those challenges ease up, the discomfort doesn’t always disappear - sometimes it just changes shape. You’re no longer struggling with the basics, but you may notice that everything still seems to require a bit more effort than you expect: decisions feel heavier and social interactions can take more energy (even when they’re pleasant). There’s a sense that you’re managing well, but not fully at ease.

For me, this showed up most clearly through language.

Until I moved abroad, I didn’t realize how deeply my sense of identity was tied to my ability to express myself. In my native language, I felt articulate and competent, sometimes even witty. I could jump into conversations easily, and trusted my ability to communicate who I was.

In French, all of that seemed to disappear.

On paper, I was doing fine: I had taken the classes; I knew the grammar rules. I had a solid vocabulary and could conjugate verbs and get my point across when needed. From the outside, I probably looked capable enough. But inside, it felt very different.

I remember having dinner conversations with my French friends, carefully building a sentence in my head, rehearsing it over and over, waiting for the right moment to speak. And more often than not, by the time I felt ready to jump in, the conversation had already moved on.

Those moments left me feeling muted and frustrated, like my personality was being filtered down to the bare minimum. I worried that no one was ever really going to get to know me, because I couldn’t express myself the way I wanted to.

Slowly (and somewhat unexpectedly), this began to chip away at my confidence. I started seeing myself as hesitant and clumsy. I became overly cautious about pronunciation, afraid of making a mistake and being judged. It surprised me how quickly that internal shift happened. I appeared competent on the surface, but inside, I didn’t feel grounded at all.

I began second-guessing all my decisions, which frustrated me even more. How could someone who felt so sure of herself in one country end up doubting herself so deeply in another?

When “Fixing It” Feels Like the Obvious Answer

My first instinct was to treat this as a problem to solve. I assumed the answer was simple: I just needed to improve my French. I needed to speak faster, find better words, and stop hesitating so much. I told myself if I could just get more fluent, I’d feel like myself again.

So I tried harder.

I studied more. I paid closer attention to how others spoke, and pushed myself to participate in conversations even when it felt uncomfortable. I focused on fixing the surface issue, convinced that confidence would naturally follow.

That response makes sense - many expats do the same thing, not only with language, but with other parts of life abroad as well. When something feels off, the instinct is often to double down: Be more disciplined. Stay busy. Be more positive. Make more of an effort socially. Trust that if you just keep going, the feeling will resolve itself.

None of that is unreasonable.

But over time, it became clear that something deeper was going on. My discomfort wasn’t coming from a lack of motivation or resilience…it wasn’t even really about language. It was about the gap between how my life looked on the outside and how steady I felt on the inside.

The version of me who once felt grounded hadn’t yet caught up to the life I was living in this new context. My external world had stabilized, but my internal reference points were still shifting.

And when those two don’t align, it’s easy to feel unsettled without quite knowing why.

The Part of Expat Life No One Really Prepares You For

Living abroad doesn’t just ask you to adapt to a new environment. Over time, it asks you to reconsider who you are within it.

That question doesn’t usually appear in the early days. It tends to surface later, once the logistics are mostly under control and you’re no longer distracted by constant urgency.

You may notice it when you feel less clear about what you want, when the things that once motivated you no longer seem to carry the same weight, or when you realize that feeling capable doesn’t automatically translate into feeling grounded.

When this happens, it can be hard to make sense of it. This is the moment when life abroad moves beyond logistics and starts reshaping you from the inside out.

The Fatigue of Holding It Together

One of the most common experiences at this stage is a particular kind of fatigue. Not the kind that comes from doing too much in a single day, but the kind that builds over time when you’re constantly adjusting yourself to fit your surroundings.

You may have learned how to navigate another language, another culture, and another system. You’ve likely developed a strong tolerance for uncertainty and ambiguity - those are real strengths. But carrying them day after day, year after year, can be draining if there’s no space to pause and acknowledge what it’s taken from you as well as what it’s given.

Many expats become very good at managing life abroad, while slowly losing touch with themselves along the way.

Why Clarity Can Feel Harder Than It Used to

Clarity often relies on familiarity: Being understood without effort. Knowing instinctively how you come across. Feeling aligned between what you think, what you say, and how you’re perceived.

Living abroad can disrupt that alignment, even long after the initial adjustment period. Language plays a big role, but it’s rarely the only factor. Cultural norms, communication styles, and subtle differences in social expectations all shape how you experience yourself.

When those things are constantly shifting, it can become harder to trust your instincts or feel confident in your decisions. You may second-guess yourself more, and feel torn between different versions of your life and different versions of yourself. What’s familiar inside you is being recalibrated.

Becoming Someone New Doesn’t Erase Who You Were

One fear that often surfaces during this phase is the sense of having lost the person you used to be. Like me, you might remember how you felt before you moved: how easy it was to express yourself and how comfortable you felt in your own skin. And you may wonder if that version of you is gone. In most cases, it isn’t. It’s simply no longer the full picture.

Life abroad adds layers. Some of them are challenging; others are enriching. All of them shape how you relate to yourself and the world. The work isn’t about going back - it’s about integrating who you’ve become.

That process takes time, and it often feels less linear than we expect.

What This Phase Is Really Asking of You

If you’re living abroad and find yourself feeling unsettled in ways you can’t easily put your finger on, it may simply reflect where you are in the adjustment process: a point where your inner world needs the same care and attention you once gave to the practical side of your move.

For many expats, that work looks like slowing down long enough to notice what’s changed internally, not just externally. Paying attention to how decisions feel now. Relearning what steadiness means in this chapter. Creating space to reflect, rather than pushing forward on autopilot. It’s less about doing more, and more about orienting yourself from the inside again.

When you begin to regain your footing internally, things often start to feel more manageable again. Decisions come from a place that feels more anchored and familiar inside yourself. That inner steadiness becomes something you can carry forward, even as life continues to change.

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Living abroad keeps evolving, long after the practical pieces are in place. If you’d like daily reflections on expat life and free support as you move through those phases, you can find me on Facebook & Instagram.

I’m also preparing a 21-part video series about life abroad. If you’re interested, following me on social media is the easiest way to ensure you’ll hear about it when it launches.