7 Things I Wish I Knew Before Moving Abroad
It’s been awhile since I wrote a post that wasn’t some style of poetry, and wasn’t directed towards an audience. It’s been even longer since I wrote about my move to Australia and life abroad. Actually, it’s been ages since I wrote anything remotely raw and transparent, without the need to use clichés and rhymes to get my point across.
So here we are.
It’s been 4 years and 11 months since my move down under. It’s been the most beautiful, hectic, testing adventure, but I’m still going. I achieved my long-term goal of Australian permanent residency 1.5 months ago, and I promise I’ll dedicate a few posts to that process, and the ever-requested “That One-Time I Moved To Australia | A 5-Year Review.” That one will have to wait until 30 September – the official 5-year mark.
It’s been 4 years and 11 months since my move down under. And today I had a massive breakdown.
After a few hours of tears and panic, I sat down and wrote out my feelings. I realised my breakdown wasn’t coming from a place of sadness or homesickness or unhappiness. Quite the opposite, actually. Despite 2020 being a raging year of challenges, I am still holding on and seeing the beauty in life. Despite being (literally) locked inside Australia due to Covid-19 and border closures, I find comfort in the fact that nearly everyone who’s currently in this country is experiencing the same thing. We are temporarily trapped, and we are in it together. There could be worse places to ride out a pandemic, and every day I feel grateful for where I am and what I have.
That’s me trying to find the silver lining. However, the breakdown still happened.
My tidal wave of emotions built up strength, loomed over my head, crashed down on me and quite simply dragged me away from all the strength and composure I’ve tried to maintain this year.
I went from 0-60, doing my normal Friday morning WFH routine and thinking about weekend plans, to fast-forwarding my life 5 years down the track and wondering what the f%@k I’m doing. Where will I raise my child, where will I be retiring, what type of life I’d want my future family to have, what career will I specialise in, etc. Bear in mind, I’m an extremely single, extremely child-fearing human who lost her job with Covid and went through a career 180. And we’re in the middle of a pandemic. Do any of us have the answers?! Clearly not.
These ridiculous thoughts hit me like a bomb, and I realised the last 4 years 11 months of my life have been filled with the most bizarre reflections and emotions.
It may seem like I have my life together, but I feel arguably even more lost than on 30 September 2015, when I first arrived here. This has prompted me to reflect on the things I wish I knew before moving abroad. They come from a place of love and pride and growth – not unhappiness and ungratefulness. If 2020 Me could shake 2015 Me’s hand and give her a guidebook on ‘Moving Abroad As A 20-Something’, I would’ve loved to have known the following:
1. I wish I knew I wasn’t the only person crazy enough to move to Australia. I think when we first arrive to a new country, we’re so caught up in the goodbyes and people & places we left behind. We’re caught up in the movie-scene, picturesque moments of being that exotic world-traveller grabbing life by the horns. We get so caught up in meeting the locals and trying to assimilate as best we can, that we forget to look at the big picture, and notice that each and every city on earth has expats and foreigners – whether domestic or international. I had so many out-of-body experiences my first year, even just looking at the stars and knowing I was looking at an entirely different sky than my family and friends were. Hellooo southern hemisphere! My first few months were spent trying to blend in as best I could, putting all my efforts into my job and only socialising with my new colleagues. Years later, I know there are SO MANY meet-up groups, support groups, or my personal favourite – Yanks Down Under on Facebook. I kept all my sadness and homesickness to myself, and I wish I had known that it was okay to vent to other expats and reach out to fellow Americans. Everyone here who has moved from interstate or overseas experiences some level of homesickness or out-of-place-ness, and they are always willing to talk about it. Back home, you might be known as that crazy gal who fled to the other side of the world, but in your new country, you’re one of many rad humans who decided to take the leap. So always connect and keep your networks open – a new city is never as big as you think it is.
2. I wish I knew that people would leave. This one was a definite shock. Number 1 above was getting to know those fellow expats, and Number 2 involves coping with the fact that they have now decided to leave. Coming from a small town where I’ve had the same friends since I was in preschool, even attending an in-state college, I had no idea how to cope with the idea of someone becoming my ultimate buddy, only to move on – far away – and leave me behind. After years of bonding with strangers from the UK, Canada, Hong Kong, Europe, even the motherland America herself – so many of those friends-turned-family have left and moved back home. The hardest part is getting so close, and never knowing how that friendship will play out and who will stay long-term. Note, all those who have moved are forever friends for life, but that doesn’t mean I was any less devastated for them to leave. Some have moved within Australia, most returning overseas, but I wish I knew to leverage every friendship I made here and not take a day for granted. I also wish I knew that I’d have to constantly source and harvest new relationships. It’s like I’m a Business Development Manager – except the business is my social life, the development is a friendship, and the work never stops!
3. I wish I knew that one year abroad would turn into 5…and counting. When I first decided to move to Oz, I told my family and friends it might be for a year or two – maybe three tops. I knew I was coming on a one-year working holiday visa, and I knew I wanted PR – which at the time, would take me 2 years to achieve. LOL that didn’t happen. Maybe it’s the magic of Australia, but nearly everyone who comes here thinking it’ll be for a few months, no, they end up staying so much longer. Some never leave! I always knew I wanted to live in Australia for some period of time, but looking back, I had no idea that the time would so seamlessly fly, and that a foreign place could feel like such a familiar home. I’m not sure what I could’ve done differently had I known this in 2015 – perhaps spent one more month home with my family, cleaned my childhood bedroom, fit in one more country concert, sold my apartment furniture which is still boxed up in my father’s basement waiting for my return……
4. I wish I knew that life back home would continue as usual. I honestly don’t know what I expected here, maybe some big airport homecoming from my family for each visit, a spotless house to venture back to, friends being the exact same people as when I saw them last, my parents looking the same, my nephew being a tiny 3-year-old toddler.
In reality, every time I’ve come home to visit, my dad picks me up from the airport as if I hadn’t been away for 1+ year, and I’m a crying cranky mess due to the 30-hour flight and missing suitcases. (Without fail, it’s truly a sight to see).
In reality, my childhood house has now become DAD’S house, and I am merely a guest who needs to respect how he’s living in it.
In reality, my friends are still amazing and the friendships are forever strong, but I always feel a sense of guilt when I hear one’s now a vegetarian, one has been dating a guy, one’s in a totally new career field – and I had absolutely no idea.
In reality, my mom and dad look ever-so-slightly older and their hair’s changed.
In reality, my not-so-little nephew has grown 3 inches and has learnt the phrase “I hate you, Auntie Mel.” (Don’t worry, he actually loves me – that was a one-off.)
I think after my first visit back home, the excitement of being “that friend who lives overseas” wore off, and now it’s just a way of life that I’m away 49 weeks out of the year, and lucky if I even make it back for 3. I’ve dealt with numerous losses of pets and family during my time abroad, and whilst I know there’s nothing I could’ve done differently, it’s a reality check to hold onto each moment with someone you love and make the most of every second. I wish I knew that life moved on for everyone I left behind, just as my life moved forwards as well. I wish I knew not to be offended when I wasn’t invited to a wedding, or told about an engagement. Life as I knew it in 2015 would never be the exact same again.
5. I wish I knew how much my priorities would change – and mature. Back in 2015, I was a 24-year-old in her prime party stage, alcohol tolerance of a champ, who was bitter from some life experiences she didn’t ask for, and a bit distant from her family. My first two years here were spent pushing through my horrendous job – solely for a chance at sponsorship and PR – and spent out at nightclubs and bars with my fellow expat colleagues. 3am night? No problem! Sunburn, hangovers, & 4am Maccas? Yes please! I put everything I had into my friendships, my social life, and feeling as little loneliness as possible. I was finally doing something for ME, finding independence I never knew I had, proving I didn’t need anyone’s help. I barely texted my sister, my parents, even my hometown friends hardly heard a word from me. After those wild two years, I realised I needed to change jobs into something more…ethical…and sustainable, whilst now chasing the new goal of PR. I realised if I was already two years into life abroad with more years ahead, I should probably pick up my slack and check in with friends and family regularly. It’s amazing how 2017-2018 was such a year of turmoil – full of learning curves, toxicity, life lessons and some downright ugly moments of transition. Something must’ve snapped into place within my loose Yankee brain, because once 2019 hit, my priorities completely rearranged. I felt weird emotions of love and respect and empathy towards my parents and sister. All those years of being a bitter brat, and it took moving away from my family to realise how incredible they are and how great of a life they gave me. I started feeling guilty and remorseful for leaving them, and wanted to speak to them every few days to hear updates and share recipes and photos. I put more effort into regular communication with hometown friendships, and I discovered that hometown pals and everyday international pals were very different friendship situations, and both deserved to be nurtured equally. I also learnt the boring adult stuff, like loving myself and my quirks over any man (lol, still learning this), saving my money so I can then empty my account for things like cars and permanent residency applications. I learnt staying in for an entire weekend (unheard of in 2015!) to write poetry and try new recipes was so much better than tequila shots and hangovers. I learnt that after so many years of becoming this newly renovated, worldly creature, it was still extremely important for me to remember my roots and find my creative avenues and rediscover all the simple things I used to love. Stage 1 of moving abroad is looking out for yourself in a social and spontaneous sense. Stage 2 of moving abroad is looking out for yourself in a healthy, personal growth, mature sense.
6. I wish I knew that home would never be linked to one place ever again. This one hurts me every day, and is arguably the biggest realisation I’ve had here. I also know I’m extremely lucky and life is far too beautiful for me to feel sad about this. In 2015, Maryland in the USA was my one and only home. Sydney, Australia would become a temporary home, sure, but I would always be an American girl. Right? Wrong-o! After so many years abroad, I feel such a strong connection to the Australian way of life, and the utmost respect for the Australian people and traditions. I’ll always love America, but I’ll also always love Australia. I agree with Australia’s healthcare system, the handling of the Covid pandemic, the work-life balance and the quality of life. I also agree with America’s schooling system, the ridiculous holiday traditions, the state pride and the NFL season. I adore Australia’s warm climate, Sydney’s beaches, the drool-worthy accent. I also adore America’s various landscapes, Maryland’s snow days, even our weird local nasally/country/shore twang. When I’m in Maryland, I miss being able to walk everywhere in Sydney, I miss the coffee, I miss the blue skies and I miss my lifestyle. When I’m in Sydney, I miss my family, I miss American parking lots, I miss blue crabs and I miss having someone look after me. Hopefully I’ve made my point – in no way do I prefer one country over the other. Both countries have built me and given me experiences I will never forget. In addition, I find home in the people I’ve met throughout my life. So many amazing memories with those who made a huge impact on my life have now caused home to not only be in America and Australia, but also scattered around Montreal, London, LA, Hong Kong, Cyprus, Manila, Puerto Rico, Austria, Dubai and Japan. Because home is in so many places, it’s nearly impossible for me to pinpoint where I want to settle, where I should raise a child, where I should retire, where I envision myself being happiest. I just can’t decide, and each day I’m abroad, it makes having to plan my life long-term even harder. It’s a beautiful problem to have, but I know no matter where I end up, I’ll always crave the other country and want what I can’t have. Any advice here is greatly encouraged – it’s the hardest thing I struggle with, and I feel like once dual citizenship is granted (within 2 years, hopefully!), I’ll be at an ultimate crossroad.
7. I wish I knew that the girl who hopped on the plane 5 years ago would have her life changed forever. For the better. I hope I’ve summarised this quite thoroughly with points 1-6, but I truly had no idea the clueless 24-year-old hopping onto her BWI-SYD flights in 2015 would be left behind at 30,000 feet that very day. I’ve changed so much, it’s hard for me to even think of who I was before I moved. Having to go through so many testing experiences on your own is extremely challenging, and trust me, I saw some low days here. It hasn’t always been Aussie sunshine and kangaroos and cute surfers. No no. It’s been empty bank accounts, toxic relationships, arguments, sexism in the workplace, cockroaches, deportation fears, broken bones, literal plane turbulence, hospital visits, lost jobs and six-inch spiders. I’d probably argue that more has been thrown at me in the last 5 years than in my previous 24 years of life. I’ve wanted to give up and call it quits numerous times, but what keeps me going is the endless knowledge you gain from being in a new place on your own. I’ve learnt something new EVERY ~clap~ SINGLE ~clap~ DAY ~clap~ in this country. I don’t even think I can put it into words – it’s something you have to experience randomly to then look back and go, damn, I really pulled that off! Moving abroad makes you appreciate everything life has to offer – the good, the bad, the happy, the sad, the ugly. Mix it all together, shove it into the visa oven, and boom – out comes an Expat.
So there you have it. The 7 things I wish I knew before making the leap abroad. For anyone who’s read this and made it this far – firstly, thank you – but more importantly, if any part of you is questioning a move to a new place – DO IT! I know I rambled on about a massive international move, but even a smaller move to a new town or interstate will give you strength and a new sense of knowledge and independence – you just have to be open and accept what comes your way. No matter how hard it gets, keep going, at least for a little longer.
If you feel lost or feel like giving in, reach out to others around you. Or hey, I’m here and always willing to be a nonjudgmental pair of ears for you, no matter who you are or where you want to be. Feeling lost is part of the adventure – and for anyone who thinks I have my life together and am living a “dream” – LOOOOOL I am a walking hot mess. But I AM happy and healthy, and I’m a far better person for putting myself through this experience.
“You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
–Haruki Murakami
