10 Things I Wish I Knew Before Leaving My Home Country

Moving abroad is amazing, but there is more to it than most people say.

May 29, 2025

Why I’m Writing This

Going abroad gets romanticised a lot. Instagram makes it look like freedom. But if you have used Instagram yourself, then you know that this has not much to do with reality.

And there is always someone trying to sell you a shiny course promising clients if you just color-code your profile and call yourself a “digital strategist.” (Spoiler alert: that’s not how it works, the only person making money here, is the one selling you the course).

Don’t get me wrong, leaving your country can be one of the best moves you’ll ever make.

But it should come with a plan. And it definitely comes with challenges. The same way you might experience challenges at home, there will be challenges abroad. Just different ones. And if you are happy where you are, you are tackling those challenges with better energy, since you already made a good decision for yourself: where you want to live, and in which system you want to integrate yourself.

I don’t wan to scare you with this list.

It’s meant to give you a more honest picture. One that highlights the stuff to watch out for. If you're thinking about leaving, or you already have, this might help you feel a bit more grounded.

So let’s have a look at 10 things that you should keep in mind, before (or during) your journey abroad…

1. Not everyone will support you

When you decide to leave your country, you think people will be excited for you. Some are. But many are not. This fact surprised me a lot when I made my first move.

I thought my decision to live abroad would inspire curiosity, or even admiration. Instead, a few close people went quiet. Some gave backhanded compliments, others acted like I was running away from responsibility. It took me a while to realize it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with how my decision made them feel about their own lives.

Leaving challenges the status quo. It disrupts. People who aren’t ready to question their own path might respond with envy, judgment, or subtle sabotage. Sometimes it’s unconscious. Sometimes it’s not. Either way, you’ll feel it.

If you’re waiting for universal approval, don’t. It won’t come. The sooner you stop needing external permission, the freer you’ll feel.

What to do:

Share less with people who clearly don’t get it
Seek support from those who’ve walked the path
Keep going, your life doesn’t need to make sense to them
Expect some weird reactions (and don’t take them personally)

2. Honeymoon phase < reality

The first few weeks feel like a movie.

New foods, new streets, new versions of yourself. You’re high on freedom and novelty. Everything seems better, lighter, more you. That’s the honeymoon phase.

And honestly? Honeymoon phases are great. I love them. Everything is new. Everything is exciting. You feel like you’ve finally escaped. From your country, your job, your past self. But after a while, the novelty fades. And that’s normal. You start craving new routines, not just new experiences.

That’s when the real questions show up.

Can I actually see myself here longer-term? Do I feel safe? Am I meeting people who uplift me? No place feels amazing all the time, but the right place aligns with your personality, your energy, your goals. You don’t need constant magic. You need fit.

The glow of my first destination after leaving home lasted almost a year. Then I moved again, and the second place lost its shine after a few months. By the time I reached my fourth stop, something clicked. I felt like this is my home. The place, the people, the energy… it fit.

That’s the thing: not every place will. And that’s okay. No destination will feel amazing all the time, but some will feel like you. That’s what you’re looking for.

What to do:

Enjoy the honeymoon, but know it will fade
Don’t panic when you feel bored or unsettled
Ask yourself: Can I grow here? Do I feel safe?
Pay attention to your energy, does the place feel like you?
Build systems early, freedom needs structure

3. Pressure to succeed

Now you’re gone. You made the leap. You did the thing most people just talk about, and that decision comes with a silent kind of pressure.

You might think everyone back home is rooting for you. Some are. But many are quietly waiting for you to fail. Not out of cruelty, but because it helps them feel better about staying. If you crash and burn, they don’t have to question their own choices. It validates the path they didn’t take.

But the real pressure? It’s not from them. It’s from you.

You want to prove something. You want to show that this move was the right one. That you’re thriving, not just surviving. It’s subtle, but it creeps in: “I can’t go back with nothing to show for it.”

Here’s the truth: most people aren’t thinking about you.

Everyone’s living their own life. You’re not being watched. But that internal fire you feel: use it. Let it push you to build something. Work out harder. Meet better people. Add more value. Not to prove anyone wrong, but to prove to yourself what you’re capable of.

What to do:

Accept that some people quietly want you to fail (and move on)
Let go of the need to impress anyone
Use the pressure as fuel, not fear
Focus on building something meaningful
Remember: you’re doing this for you, not for applause

4. You can always move again

Your first destination does not have to be your forever home. It’s just your first step.

I stayed in my first country for a while because I thought I had to make it work. I felt like leaving again would mean I failed. But in reality, I just outgrew it. The second place didn’t click either. The third one felt okay for another year. By the fourth, I found something that fit. None of it was wasted time. Each move taught me more about what I need, what energises me, and what to avoid.

The right place at 29 might feel off at 33. That’s normal. You’re allowed to pivot.

What to do:

See each place as a chapter, not a life sentence
Don’t force a fit just to avoid starting over
Treat moving as data collection, what works, what doesn’t
Reframe “leaving again” as growth, not failure
Give yourself permission to change your mind

5. Basic language skills unlock a lot

A few basic words in a foreign language, especially with a smile, go a long way.

In one of the first places I lived, I barely spoke the language (Greek). I relied on apps, gestures, and luck. But after learning some basics, like “good morning” to the coffee cart guy on my morning runs in Cyprus, the response was very warm. It showed that I care enough about the place I moved to, to make an effort. And that made all the difference.

People aren’t expecting you to speak perfectly (except if you’re going to France, but thats another story). Trying to speak the language signals curiosity, humility, and effort. It makes bureaucratic hell slightly less painful. It makes street food way more fun. And it makes locals way more willing to help you out.

Beyond the practical, learning even 20–30 words creates a sense of belonging. You start feeling less like a tourist and more like a participant.

What to do:

Learn 20-30 core words before you arrive
Practice daily phrases for taxis, food, and greetings
Don’t worry about mistakes, it can be charming
Use it as a way to connect, not impress (unless you are fluent)
Let language be a bridge, not a barrier

I used Duolingo a lot, combined with some classes with a local teacher.

6. Culture matters

Depending on your travel history and where you decide to move, you might or might not feel an immediate culture shock. Sometimes it’s loud and obvious. Other times it’s subtle, a quiet sense of “off” that builds over time.

ความรู้สึกแตกต่างทางวัฒนธรรม (Culture Shock) ของนักศึกษาต่างชาติ: เรื่องที่ควรคาดการณ์ไว้ก่อน | เว็บไซต์ข้อมูลศึกษาต่อเกียวโตMAGAZINE

Learning about the local culture can feel like something to quickly check off your to-do list. A few articles, a YouTube video, maybe a Reddit thread and you assume you’re ready. That works to a degree. But if you stop there, you’re likely to miss the deeper stuff. And that’s where the friction shows up.

In some places, I came off as rude when I thought I was being friendly (who knew smiling at Russians is considered rude?). In others, I felt strangely isolated, even though people were being “nice.” It took me a while to understand that I simply didn’t know what the culture valued, how people socialise, how they communicate, how they show trust or respect.

The more I started observing and asking, the smoother things got. You don’t need to become a cultural anthropologist. But read a bit. Observe more than you speak. You’ll avoid a lot of invisible friction that drains your energy without you realizing it.

What to do:

Research basic cultural norms before you arrive
Watch how locals interact (tone, gestures, timing)
When in doubt, be observant and low-key
Don’t assume your way is “normal” (it’s just yours)
See cultural friction as feedback, not failure

7. Finding your tribe takes effort

One of the loneliest moments abroad is being surrounded by people you don’t connect with.

When you first land, it’s tempting to latch onto whoever’s around: hostel friends, neighbours, expat groups. Some of those connections will be great. Others will feel flat, or even draining. But because you’re far from home, you might tolerate them longer than you should, just to avoid being on your own.

It took me a while to realize that proximity does not equal compatibility.

Not everyone living abroad is your kind of person. You still need to filter, explore, and sometimes even relocate to find the right crew.

Eventually, you’ll start to spot the signs: shared values, similar energy, mutual curiosity. It’s less about where you are from, and more about where you are going.

What to do:

Be selective, not everyone abroad is “your people”
Try different spaces: gyms, events, coworking, communities
Leave fast when it feels off, protect your energy
Invest in relationships that expand you
Trust it takes time, and that the right ones are worth it

8. Bureaucracy is brutal

You left to feel free and then ended up spending hours filling out forms, queuing at immigration offices, and asking GPT how to open a bank account in a language you don’t speak.

Welcome to the paradox of global freedom.

The paperwork does not go away. It just changes shape. Instead of tax returns and utility bills in your home country, it’s visa runs, residence permits, health insurance documents, and strange requirements like needing six passport photos for reasons no one can explain.

I’ve lost entire days to bureaucracy. Not because I was lazy, but because I didn’t know the rules. Or the rules changed. Or the website said one thing, and the office said another. You start to realize how much you took clarity and consistency for granted.

And no matter how digital the country looks on Instagram, you’ll still end up needing paper copies of everything. Often multiple. Stamped. Signed. And handed over at a counter that only opens from 10:00 to 11:30 on Tuesdays.

Bangkok Post - Thai immigration: Where do things stand?

What to do:

Triple-check official requirements before you go
Always bring extra copies, extra photos, and extra patience
Join local expat groups, someone’s already figured it out
Schedule time for admin tasks, they take longer than you think
Remember: no one escapes the paperwork. Just be prepared.

9. Bring a financial buffer

You’re already doing something big by leaving.

Don’t make it harder by stressing about money on top of that.

Moving abroad comes with hidden costs: deposits, upfront rent, new gear, random “one-time” fees that stack up fast. And even if you plan well, life happens. Bank cards get blocked. A client delays payment. You move cities unexpectedly.

My advice: Have at least six months of living expenses saved for your target country. Have a real plan for how you’re going to earn money, even if it’s part-time or project-based at first.

It’s tempting to spend on stuff to make the move feel more exciting. New luggage, upgraded gear, gadgets. Skip it. That extra cash will be more useful when something breaks or plans change.

What to do:

Don’t leave broke, save at least 6 months of expenses
Know what your basic cost of living will be in your target country
Build an income plan before you arrive
Cut unnecessary purchases (cash beats cool gear)
Give yourself space to adapt without panic

10. It rewires you

Living abroad teaches you a lot about yourself. And in “un-teaches” a lot as well.

Beliefs you absorbed without questioning suddenly feel optional. You realize that “the way things are done” is just one version of many. The daily habits, social norms, even your idea of success, they all get shaken up.

After a while, you stop needing to be so certain. You become more comfortable with discomfort. More open to different kinds of people, rhythms, and ways of thinking.

Living abroad rewires you. Not all at once, but steadily. It makes you more adaptable, more curious, more capable of seeing the world, and yourself, through a wider lens.

What to do:

Let go of needing one “right” way to live
Pay attention to what beliefs no longer fit
Stay open, even when it feels unfamiliar
Let change happen, that’s the point

Should I still move?

Wow, this sounds like I should not move.

I get it. After reading this, it might feel like leaving your home country is just bureaucracy, loneliness, pressure, and crushed expectations.

But trust me, it’s the best.

None of these things are reasons not to go. They are just the fine print. The stuff no one tells you because it doesn’t fit neatly into a reel. But if you go in with your eyes open, with a plan, a buffer, and a willingness to grow, the rewards are bigger than you imagined.

You’ll stretch. You’ll change. You’ll surprise yourself.

And one day, somewhere far from where you started, you will realize: this version of you couldn’t have been born anywhere else.