Living abroad is a study in contrasts. It's the thrill of adventure juxtaposed with the ache of homesickness. It's the pride of independence tempered by the vulnerability of being a stranger in a strange land.
But it's in these contrasts that you find the beauty. The way the longing for home makes you appreciate it more. The way the challenges of adapting to a new culture make you stronger and make you evolve in ways in never thought possible.
Embarking on a new life abroad is a leap into the unknown. It's a journey that begins with tearful goodbyes and ends with a heart stretched across oceans. Torn between two worlds, two versions of yourself.
The distance is a thief, stealing precious moments. Birthdays, holidays, impromptu coffee dates - reduced to pixelated smiles and digitized laughter, the pictures in the family group or the Stories you see in Instagram. Sometimes it feels like your the last one to see the movie everyone already knows the plot.
But the distance is also a teacher, schooling you in the art of cherishing. Every hug becomes a treasure, every shared meal a sacred ritual. When you meet again, every second will be special, and every encounter memorable. You will value an opportunity to sit with your family for a meal like you never have before.
You're weaving a new life, thread by thread. Exotic flavors, foreign tongues, unfamiliar customs - each one a colorful strand in the tapestry of your becoming.
Yet, the fabric of your old life remains, a comforting patchwork of memories. The laughter of childhood friends, the embrace of a parent, the streets that raised you.
You're a hybrid now, a beautiful amalgamation of there and here. The one you were and the one you are now becoming. Your heart beats in two different time zones.
There are days when homesickness hits like a tidal wave. When you'd trade all the adventure for one more night in your old bedroom. When you'd trade all the new experiences for the chance of receiving a "Good Morning" from your parents as you wake up to face another day.
You will forget how to say things in your own native language or mother tongue. And at the same time there will be a new dialect you were not used to speaking that will emerge - the dialect of missing. "Wish you were here" becomes your most uttered phrase, your heart's refrain. “I miss you” will be you new frequent companion.
But you also learn a new language. And I don’t mean the language of the country you are now living in (that also happens), I mean the language of resilience. The language of nurturing your roots while stretching your wings.
Technology is a balm, but an imperfect one. Video calls, Audio Messages and WhatsApp messages, poor substitutes for real presence. Technology is only but a instrument, and what matters the most is the intent.
You feel the ache of absence like a phantom limb. The empty chair at the table, the inside jokes that fall flat without their co-conspirator. You will try to explain a joke that no one will quite understand the humor.
But absence also makes the heart grow fonder. It teaches you to love harder, to appreciate deeper, to never take a moment for granted. It teaches about being present without being near. It teaches that true love knows no boundaries.
You're a citizen of the world now, you belong everywhere and nowhere.
And as you navigate this journey, you realize that you're not just discovering new places, but new facets of yourself.
In the end, you realize that home is not a place but a feeling. You are learning how to find home within yourself.
You’re a nomad with a passport full of stamps. Each one a badge of courage, a testament to your adventurous spirit.
Your accent is a charming mishmash of everywhere you've been. You are equally at home in a Brazilian boteco and a London pub.
But your true citizenship is in the land of in-between. That liminal space where past and present collide, where nostalgia and anticipation perform a delicate dance.
You carry it with you, this portable sanctuary. It's in the memories you cherish, the love you hold, the absence you feel and the person you're becoming.
This is the real gift of living abroad - not just the stamps in your passport or the stories you'll tell, but the person you'll become. You're becoming a more complex, nuanced version of yourself.
A person who is open, adaptable, and alive to the wonders of the world. A person who can navigate ambiguity, who can find comfort in discomfort, who can build bridges across cultural divides.
So to all the global nomads, the expats, the adventurers - this is a love letter to your journey. To the courage it takes to leave the familiar behind, to the resilience you've shown in the face of challenges, to the growth you've embraced.
And though the path may be winding, though the destination may be uncertain, know that you are exactly where you're meant to be. For every step, every struggle, every triumph is shaping you into the person you're destined to become.
And as you stand on the precipice of your next adventure, know that you carry with you the strength of every challenge overcome, the wisdom of every lesson learned, and the love of every soul you've touched along the way.
So keep going, intrepid traveler. Keep embracing the unknown, keep seeking the beauty in the contrasts,
When it gets hard, please remember this: every journey away is also a journey towards.
Towards growth, towards self-discovery, towards the realization that distance is just another word for the space between who you were and who you're meant to be.
So here's to the journey - the one that lies behind and the one that stretches ahead. May it continue to shape you, to inspire you, to awaken you to the boundless possibilities within and without.
So you embrace the journey, the beautiful struggle of it all.
Knowing that every step is taking you closer to your true self, your true home.
For your journey is not just about the places you'll go, but about the person you'll become. And that person - that brave, resilient, open-hearted soul - is a gift to the world.
Keep shining, dear wanderer. The world needs your light.
