I’d been thinking about writing this entry for quite a while, but I keep putting it off. And now that I’ve written it, I keep hesitating to press the “Publish” button. Why? Because I recognize that I live a relatively comfortable life here, and I don’t want it to be misconstrued that I don’t appreciate that fact.
I’m so grateful for my time here and the certain privileges I’m afforded as an expat. I know that compared to people who face real struggles, I really don’t have any room to complain about anything. But this, personally, has been hard for me, so I’d like to write as truthfully about it as I can. And maybe someone else out there can empathise, so it’ll be worth “confessing”.
For me, the hardest part about living abroad hasn’t been missing my family or friends back home, as much as I do. Nor has it been craving creature comforts, as I can definitely survive without them. And since I have a stable job, it’s fortunately, nothing financial related.
No, the hardest part has been saying goodbye to the friends I’ve made here.
I’ve lived here for a little over two and a half years, and in that time I must have said goodbye to over a dozen people who, for the time they lived here, were a huge part my world and life here. It’s not just my fellow expat friends, either. My Taiwanese friends have been just as likely to get up and move abroad, so it’s not just an issue of having a lack of local friends.
Having true friends—people that genuinely understand you, and you them—is a fundamental part of feeling settled and content anywhere. But when you live abroad, you have to create a whole new definition of “home”. In order to do so, you need to feel like you belong, that you’re part of a community, and you aren’t in it alone.
So every time I have to say goodbye, I feel the foundations of my stay here shake.
Sometimes, it does get to me, and I feel really down, and to be honest, a bit lonely. I do my best to shake the feeling away, but it seems to get to me more and more. I question why it matters to me so much… and feel stupid for letting it get to me.
In those moments, I try remind myself that I still do have a handful of people here I feel do truly understand me, and whose friendship I’m very thankful of.
I guess the constant upheaval of friendships is inevitable when you’re making friends who, like you, are not tied to one place. I really admire when anyone takes the leap to move on to bigger and better things and further themselves.
So honestly, I couldn’t be prouder to be friends with so many people who are determined to step out of their comfort zone, and go through the often arduous process of finding their feet again in a new country. Because, when I think about it, that’s the life I want to continue living, too.
Perhaps then, a major part of why it bothers me is that it makes me question how long I should stay here myself. I’ve written about when is the right time to move on in the past, and although my life is markedly different from then, it seems like those same thoughts are creeping back.
Every question I try to answer just breeds more questions. When I think, “how long is too long?”, I equally question “how short is too short?” I spend time figuring out what exactly I want from my life, and realise that in many ways, Taipei gives me those things. But there’s always this voice that says I eventually need to break out. I’ve become for the most part very comfortable here (apart from this friend issue), and although the feeling of comfort is what most people yearn for, it’s the very one I try to escape from.
Ever since I started living abroad, there’s an odd part of me that doesn’t feel comfortable being too comfortable. I definitely feel my best self when I’m out of my comfort zone and pushing myself. The sense of determination I feel when I have to make things work and make a home out of a new place makes me feel more alive than living life comfortably in one place. That’s the exact reason why I left my home city of Sydney in the first place—and now I’m starting to feel that same thing here too.
Coming back to my friend drain issue, there’s really no solution other than to keep putting myself out there, and making new friends. I know I should, and I’m trying. But to be completely truthful, there’s a huge part of me that’s so tired of meeting someone I feel connected to, taking the time to develop a deep friendship, and needing to say goodbye to them X months later. It’s emotionally exhausting, and it takes its toll.
But that’s what I signed up for living abroad. For all the wonderful things that life as an expat here offers, there has to be some trade offs as well. Losing friends, and questioning what’s next are two of them for me.
And so long as I remember that, I guess it’s not that bad after all.
What do you find the hardest part about living abroad? I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!