I Left the U.S. 25 Years Ago. If I Were Moving Abroad All Over Again, Here’s What I’d Tell Myself

Reflecting on 25 years abroad and the expat life lessons I’ve learned along the way.

Twenty-five years ago, I boarded a plane to France with two suitcases, one dictionary, and a head full of certainty that I was about to begin the grand adventure of my life. I had no idea that the “adventure” part would often look less like sipping espresso under the Eiffel Tower and more like trying to buy stamps without crying.

If I could go back and talk to that younger version of myself — the one who thought moving abroad was just a matter of logistics and language — I’d have a few things to say. Things I learned not from guidebooks or relocation checklists, but from years of figuring it out, one mismatched experience at a time.

So here’s what I’d tell her — the 20-something me, about to leave everything familiar behind.

1. You’ll never feel completely ready — and that’s the point.

You’ll think there’s a perfect time to move abroad. You’ll tell yourself you just need to save a bit more money, get a little more fluent, figure out the job situation, say one last proper goodbye. But the truth is, no one ever feels fully ready.

You’ll only realize this once you’re already in the air — somewhere over the Atlantic — wondering why you suddenly forgot every word of French you studied for three years.

That’s how big life shifts work. They’re equal parts terrifying and thrilling, and they rarely wait until you have your life sorted out. The trick is to leap anyway, and trust that you’ll build the wings as you fall.

2. Learning a new language will humble you, and that’s how you’ll grow.

There will be days when your brain feels like a rusty engine sputtering through every conversation. You’ll nod politely through dinner parties, convinced you’ve just agreed to adopt someone’s cat.

But learning a language will teach you something more valuable than vocabulary; it will teach you patience, empathy, and humility. You’ll start to appreciate how brave it is for anyone, anywhere, to try to express themselves in a tongue that isn’t their own.

One day, you’ll catch yourself telling a joke in French and realize: you’re not fluent yet, but you’re free.

3. Friendships abroad will form faster, and sometimes fade faster too.

In the beginning, you’ll meet people who feel like instant family. You’ll bond over shared confusion at the bakery, your mutual heartbreak over bureaucracy, and your shared craving for peanut butter.

Some of those friendships will last a lifetime. Others will disappear as suddenly as they arrived, swept away by job changes, relocations, or shifting life phases.

You’ll learn not to measure their worth by their length. Some friends are for a season, and some are for the journey. Both will shape you in ways you’ll carry forever.

4. Your definition of “home” will keep changing (and that’s okay).

At first, “home” will still mean your country of origin — the place where people get your jokes and you can buy cereal that doesn’t taste like cardboard.

Then, slowly, “home” will start to mean the place where your life happens. It’ll be where your friends live, where your favorite bakery knows your order, where your keys fit the door.

And eventually, “home” won’t be one single place at all. It’ll be a collection of people, memories, smells, and routines scattered across continents.

You’ll stop asking, Where do I belong? and start realizing: you belong wherever you’ve decided to stay open.

5. You’ll miss the strangest things.

Not the grand, predictable ones like family or your favorite city skyline. No — it’ll be the little things that ambush you. The smell of a Target aisle. A decent bagel. The sound of someone saying “have a nice day” without irony.

At first, it’ll feel silly to miss these things...like you’re being ungrateful for the adventure you chose. But homesickness doesn’t mean you made a mistake. It just means you loved something enough to miss it.

So when those feelings hit you, don’t try to rationalize your way out of them. Make the sweet potatoes with marshmallows. Watch the old reruns. Let nostalgia sit with you for a bit...it always leaves eventually.

6. Culture shock never really ends…it just changes form.

At first, you’ll feel it in obvious ways: the language barriers, the customs, the odd opening hours that defy reason. Later, it’ll sneak up in more subtle ways...like when you visit home and realize that feels foreign now too.

You’ll live in the space between cultures, never fully one or the other. And though that can feel unsettling, it’s also what makes you adaptable, empathetic, and strangely good at reading a room.

One day, you’ll realize you’ve become a bridge — someone who can see both sides and help others feel less lost crossing over.

7. You’ll outgrow parts of yourself, and that’s not a loss.

The version of you who left home will feel very far away some days. You’ll look back and barely recognize her: her ambitions, her fears, her idea of success.

At first, that’ll scare you. You’ll think you’ve lost something essential. But the truth is, you’re just evolving.

Living abroad has a way of sanding down the parts of you that were never really “you” to begin with: the expectations, the comparisons, the old definitions of "enough".

You’ll start to see yourself with clearer eyes. And you’ll realize that growth often feels like loss in the moment...until it doesn’t.

8. Loneliness will visit, but it doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.

Even years in, loneliness will sneak up on you sometimes — usually when you least expect it. A birthday missed back home, a quiet Sunday, a long stretch of rain.

You’ll start to think you’re the only one feeling that way, but you’re not. Loneliness is the quiet undercurrent of every expat story, no matter how long we’ve been away.

The secret isn’t to chase it away, but to listen to what it’s trying to tell you. It’s often a sign that you’re ready for deeper connection, not proof that you don’t belong.

9. You’ll leave pieces of yourself everywhere you’ve lived.

Each city will hold a version of you: the brave one, the heartbroken one, the one who thought she’d never figure it out but did anyway.

You’ll realize one day that you’re not defined by any single place, but by the mosaic of everywhere you’ve been and everyone you’ve become.

It’s bittersweet, this kind of life. You’ll always miss somewhere, and someone. But you’ll also carry more worlds within you than you ever imagined possible.

Looking Back

If I could go back to that younger version of myself — the teary-eyed girl nervously clutching her passport in the airport terminal — I’d tell her this:

You won’t always know what you’re doing, but you’ll always find your way. You’ll learn more about courage, resilience, and love than any degree or career could have taught you.

You’ll become someone softer and stronger all at once — someone who knows how to begin again.

And that, in the end, is what life abroad is really about.

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If you’re in that stage of life abroad where you’re still figuring out who you’re becoming, remember: you don’t have to do it alone.

That’s exactly what I help expats do through my 1:1 integrative wellness and life transition coaching program: rediscover confidence, clarity, and a grounded sense of self while building a balanced, fulfilling life abroad.

Click on the “Contact” menu tab to book your free discovery call today.

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