10 Things I Learned Talking to Expats

Start writing..10 Things I Learned Talking to Expats

My name is Noria. A year ago, I thought "living abroad" meant posting beach photos and saying "life is beautiful." Then I started talking to expats. Not on Instagram. Really talking. Over coffee, in DMs at 11 PM when jet lag keeps you awake, at parties where no one speaks your native language.

What they told me had nothing to do with postcards. And it changed me.

1. Loneliness has an accent

Marie, French in Tokyo, told me: "The hardest part isn’t the language. It’s when you want to tell a childhood joke and no one gets the reference." You can be surrounded by 14 million people and feel invisible. I understood that belonging is built, not found. At first you think it’s temporary. Then you realize it’s part of the package. And you learn to live with it, then appreciate it.

2. You become a child again

Karim, Algerian in Montreal, told me how he spent 40 minutes buying shampoo because "moisturizing" and "volumizing" meant nothing to him. When you live abroad, you lose your status as a competent adult. And it’s humiliating. But also freeing. You relearn how to ask for help, use gestures to make yourself understood, laugh at your mistakes. It’s a forced school of humility. You have no choice but to be patient with yourself.

3. "Home" becomes a blurry concept

Sofia, Spanish in Berlin, told me: "When I go back to Spain, they say ‘you’ve changed.’ When I’m in Berlin, I’m ‘the Spanish girl.’ I’m nowhere 100%." It hurts at first. But it forces you to define who you are without your country defining you. You become a mix. And that’s not a flaw, it’s wealth. You create your own home wherever you go.

4. Food is edible nostalgia

Every expat I met has a "comfort dish." For Ahmed, it’s his mom’s couscous. He takes a 3-hour train just for spices he can’t find in Lyon. I understood that taste is a memory you can bite into. A meal is a free call home. That’s why we cook for 3 days for a 20-minute dinner.

5. Your old friends don’t understand, and that’s okay

"You’re complaining about what? You’re in Canada!" That’s what they told Léa. When you choose to leave, people think you signed up to be happy 24/7. Talking to expats taught me to stop explaining my exhaustion to people who haven’t lived it. You keep the real ones, the ones who ask "are you really okay?" not "isn’t it great?" And you make new friends who understand without you having to explain.

6. You become an expert in small wins

Ordering coffee without being corrected. Getting a joke in English. Receiving mail without errors. Abroad, these basic things become victories. And you learn to celebrate them. Because if you don’t, no one will do it for you. Being an expat is an accelerated school of resourcefulness. Every small thing makes you stronger.

7. Money doesn’t buy ease

I thought earning in euros would solve everything. Wrong. You can earn more and feel poorer because you don’t have a network, no family to babysit, no doctor who understands you. Ease is social. Not just financial. It’s having someone to call when your boiler breaks at midnight.

8. You relearn your own traditions

Before leaving, I never celebrated Eid big. Now I cook 3 days ahead for my expat friends. Being far away forces you to choose what really matters in your culture. You keep the essentials, throw out the rest. You become a guardian of what matters. And you discover traditions you didn’t even know about.

9. Racism is tiring, even when it’s "nice"

"But you speak French so well!" Thanks. I’m 28. I did all my studies in French. I hear that stupid compliment 3 times a week. Expats taught me that micro-aggressions wear you down. And you have to talk about it, not just "get over it." Saying it hurts isn’t being weak. It’s being honest.

10. You become more yourself

It’s paradoxical. When you remove the language, family, social codes that defined you, what’s left? You. Raw. Unfiltered. It’s terrifying and the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m no longer "so-and-so’s daughter" or "so-and-so’s friend." I’m Noria. And that’s enough. None of the expats I met regret trying. Even those who came back say: "At least I tried."

Why am I telling you this?

Because if you’re thinking of leaving, prepare for this. Not the beaches. Not the sunsets. Prepare to rebuild yourself a bit. Moving abroad isn’t escaping. It’s choosing to keep moving. It’s choosing discomfort to grow.

And if you’ve already left, know you’re not crazy for feeling this way. Thousands of us live the same thing, in different time zones. And sometimes, it’s by leaving that you really understand where you come from. And learn to love it differently.

Next time you feel lost, write to me. We’ll grab coffee, even on video call. Being an expat is lighter with two.