What No One Tells You About Moving Abroad

There’s a lot of conversation around moving abroad, but it usually focuses on the same things. Why people do it, how exciting it is, and how much they love it (or don’t).

What I didn’t hear much about were the in-between parts. The everyday realities that aren’t big enough to put people off, but still take a bit of getting used to once you’re actually living them.

None of this has ever changed how I feel about living abroad, I genuinely love it. These are just a few things I’ve noticed along the way that’s never spoken about.

1. How Temporary Living Affects Relationships

One thing people don’t always talk about when living abroad is how easy it is to meet people, and how different those interactions can feel.

You meet people constantly. Through work, mutual friends, sports clubs, social events. I’ve made some genuinely close friends here, the kind that took time and consistency. Those didn’t happen quickly.

At the same time, there are plenty of people you’ll probably only ever know casually.

That’s largely because everything is temporary. People are on short-term contracts, working remotely, or just passing through. When no one really knows how long they’re staying, many connections stay casual. People come into your life easily, but not everyone stays long enough for something deeper to develop.

Over time, that changes how you approach people. You become more intentional with the few that really matter. The friendships you do build closely tend to be more deliberate, because they require effort in an environment that doesn’t naturally support long-term continuity.

At first, this can feel strange, especially if you’re used to friendships forming over years. But surface-level doesn’t mean pointless. These interactions still add something. They make everyday life feel social and familiar, even if they don’t turn into long-term friendships.

Dating follows a similar pattern.

Dating abroad is often temporary by default. You meet people knowing that one of you is likely to leave. Visas end, contracts finish, plans change. Because of that, things can move quickly.

There’s usually less focus on long-term planning and more emphasis on what’s happening right now. That can be fun, but it also means not every situation is heading somewhere serious.

You also get used to goodbyes. They become a normal part of life. People move on and you learn to expect it.

Living abroad changes how you think about the people in your life. Some stay, some don’t, and that doesn’t make the time spent together any less meaningful.

2. You’re Always Half-Planning Your Exit

Even when things are going well, there’s usually a quiet question running in the background: what’s next?

If you asked me what my five, or ten-year plan is, I’d probably panic a bit. I genuinely have no idea. At uni, I could’ve given you a pretty clear timeline of how I thought my life would pan out. Since moving abroad, that timeline has been completely thrown out. I’m very far from where I assumed I’d be by now.

A lot of people stay in the same job for a few years before thinking about what comes next. TEFL doesn’t really work like that. Contracts are usually one year long, and when they end, you’re forced to make a decision: extend, move country, or do something else entirely.

For me, teaching isn’t the long-term goal, which means that question comes around faster than I’d like. As September gets closer, it’s not just what job next, but what country next too. Everything feels open at once, which can be exciting, but also overwhelming.

Even though I’m happy here, I don’t fully settle in the way I might if this felt permanent. I don’t put much effort into making my flat feel like a long-term home. I don’t buy decorations I’d hate to leave behind. I don’t really “nest”. I live like someone who knows they’ll have to fit their life into two suitcases again at some point.

There’s a lightness to living like that, but also a distance. You’re comfortable, but not rooted. You’re present, but always aware that this version of life has an expiry date.

The hardest part is holding both things at the same time. Trying to enjoy where you are, while also knowing you need to think ahead. You want to be present and grateful for living in Vietnam, but time moves fast. You blink and suddenly a year has gone by, and you realise you probably should’ve planned something for the next one.

So you end up living in two timelines at once, the life you’re living now, and the one you haven’t quite figured out yet. It’s not constant stress, but it does mean you’re rarely fully “done” planning, even when everything around you feels settled.

3. Missing People Without Missing Home

Living in Vietnam has slightly ruined England for me, in the sense that the idea of moving back just doesn’t appeal anymore.

I miss people in England. Friends, family, and the small, ordinary moments. I haven’t missed any major life events yet, but I do miss the simple things: going to the pub with my mates, family dinners, being able to show up without booking flights or checking leave.

What I don’t miss is living there.

That contradiction took a while to make sense of. You can miss people a lot without missing the place itself. Those feelings don’t cancel each other out, even though it often feels like they should.

There’s a constant sense of being stuck between two worlds. Wanting to be there for the people you love, but also wanting to choose the life that genuinely makes you happy. For me, that life happens to be abroad. In a perfect world, I’d just convince everyone to move here.

I’d love to see my friends and family more often, but moving back to England doesn’t feel right anymore. The cost of travel, the grey, drizzly days, and slipping back into a lifestyle I know doesn’t suit me just doesn’t outweigh what I’ve built here.

Yes, the job opportunities are better on paper. And yes, life there probably makes more sense practically. But I’ve realised that comfort isn’t the same as happiness.

Living abroad forces you to separate home from people. England still holds relationships I care about, but it doesn’t feel like where my life fits right now. Both things can be true at the same time, even if explaining that to other people doesn’t always translate easily.

4. Freedom Can Feel Strange

I live a fun life here, and I don’t take that for granted. But that freedom sometimes comes with a quiet sense of guilt.

My life doesn’t feel particularly heavy. I pay rent, save money, and do my job, but beyond that, my responsibilities are limited. I can go out on a random Tuesday. I don’t feel the same long-term career pressure or constant stress that a lot of people my age back home seem to be dealing with.

At times, it feels a bit like a continuation of uni. Everyone lives close by. Social plans are easy. Nights out are affordable enough to do more than once a week if I feel like it. Life is structured, but not restrictive. Enjoyable, but not especially demanding.

And that’s where the doubt creeps in.

It can make the lifestyle feel slightly unrealistic, like I’m opting out of the stress and struggle that are supposed to come with “growing up.” I sometimes wonder whether I’m building the resilience and experience I’ll need later, or just delaying that phase of life altogether.

Travel adds to that feeling. Being able to book trips around South East Asia feels surreal. I love it, but it also makes life feel less serious, as if I’m living in a window of time rather than something permanent.

The confusing part is that this life is sustainable. Plenty of people do it long-term. It just doesn’t look like the version of adulthood most of us were shown growing up.

So I end up holding two opposing thoughts at once: I’m enjoying my life, and I’m not always sure I’m being the responsible twenty-something I’m probably supposed to be.

That tension doesn’t cancel anything out. It’s just part of living with a level of freedom that not everyone has, exciting, slightly unsettling, and hard to explain unless you’re in it.

Final Thoughts

Living abroad comes with a mix of realities that don’t neatly line up.

You can feel happy and unsettled at the same time. Excited about your life, while unsure what comes next. Close to people in multiple places, without feeling fully rooted in any of them.

I don’t have a clear long-term plan, and I don’t know where I’ll be living this time next year. What I do know is that living abroad has forced me to think differently about stability, connection, and what actually makes me happy.

It’s not perfect, and it’s not permanent. But it’s taught me more about myself than staying comfortable ever did.

Love from Saigon,

Anaïs