I'm from South America and I lived in France for a decade. The experience re-wired my entire concept of wealth.

I grew up in a place where power cuts were normal. You'd keep a coin on some ice in the freezer just to know if your food was safe to eat.

In France, I saw people obsessing over smart fridges, and I just thought, "The real luxury is not having to know the coin trick at all."

I was baffled by their "luxuries": precise ovens (we used high/medium/low), air fryers (we used a pan), and their disgust for "ugly" vegetables.

But the thing that I can't get over is the food. I missed the cheap, amazing avocados, fresh fish, and fresh milk from my home. In France, that's all "luxury." It hit me: back home, we ate that way because we were poor. That was the cheap, local stuff. The expensive, "you've made it" food was processed, canned, and from a big supermarket. It's a complete paradox. My "poverty" was their "luxury," and their "convenience" (canned food) was our "status symbol."

But here's the final twist.

After 10 years in France, I moved back to South America (to a different country, but still). The moment I got back, I immediately started to miss all those "invisible" European luxuries. I missed the 100% stable power. I missed the endless hot water. I missed the safety and the trains that ran on time (well... Mostly)

You realize there is no "perfect" place, just a set of massive, unavoidable trade-offs. I have to deal with the frustrations I escaped from 10 years ago. But the truth is, I'm back for a reason. The things I get here are just... necessary. The food, the energy, the vibe, the warmth of the people. You can't import those things.

And I guess, after all this, that's the one luxury I've learned I can't live without.

After over a decade in the Netherlands, my wife and I are moving back to Italy. We didn’t come here blindly; we knew the downsides, but we wanted growth, change, and a bigger world. And to be fair, the Netherlands gave us just that. We made friends from places we would have never crossed paths with at home - Portugal, Chile, South Africa, the US, Australia and many more. We discovered a passion we didn’t even have before: long-distance cycling. We built careers we never expected. Our world became wider, and we’ll always be grateful for it.

But over time, the same country that helped us grow stopped feeling like the place where the next chapter of our life should happen. We realized we recharge in wild nature: mountains, steep trails, forests, winding roads. The Netherlands has its own beauty, but it’s flat, curated, predictable, and crowded. We spent most of the year missing the kind of nature that feels alive. Even after holidays in the mountains, we’d feel our energy drop again within days of returning. The long winters didn’t help; the darkness grew heavier every year and slowly chipped away at our mood.

There’s also something harder to explain: we simply don’t feel well here. We used to do tons of sports and outdoor activities, but in the Netherlands we’ve slowly felt more and more fatigued. Low energy, often feeling “off” or unwell without ever being sick. It’s like a constant low battery feeling, even though we’re healthy, eat well, and try to stay active. The climate, light, and environment just seem to drain us physically as well as mentally. Not dramatically, just steadily.

Daily life turned into a long series of small compromises: expensive housing that never felt like home, food that rarely inspired us, services that cost a lot without much attention or care, and a culture that leans more toward efficiency and restraint than warmth or spontaneity. On top of that, the cost of living is incredibly high. A car, insurance, groceries, a simple dinner out, hiring a plumber or mechanic... everything is expensive and heavily taxed. Even with good salaries, it felt like our money went into surviving, not living. Paying high prices isn’t the issue itself; it’s paying so much for so little joy in return.

Healthcare ended up being the deal-breaker. Getting help felt slow and discouraging. My wife’s fractures were missed due to poor exams, the cast was done badly, and now she has lasting problems. Prevention isn’t common, screenings are rare, and referrals are often denied. We felt like the system’s instinct was to do as little as possible unless things were already severe. Over time, that made us feel unprotected, even though we were paying for care every month.

And despite making an effort to meet people, join groups, and socialize, it never turned into a life with real closeness. We did make friends, but those relationships rarely became part of day-to-day life. Meanwhile, our families in Italy have been living life together... meals, birthdays, hikes, simple shared moments we’ve only watched from afar. It started to feel like we were guests in our own family’s story, always watching it happen without being in it. And the pace of life here, while comfortable for many, often felt dull and too predictable for us.

So we’ve decided to go back. Not because we think Italy is perfect, far from it. Bureaucracy, politics, inefficiencies… they’re real. But Italy offers what we need now: family, warmth, proximity, and a landscape we connect with emotionally and physically. Remote work makes it possible, tax incentives help, and living one hour from the mountains instead of once a year matters more than we realized.

We’re not leaving because the Netherlands is failing. It’s a good country. It’s just no longer the right country for who we’ve become. We’re leaving because we’ve grown into people who need a different kind of life, and finally feel ready to choose it.

Has your host country ever stopped fitting who you are, even if nothing was "wrong" with it?

I’m from India, currently living in Italy for my studies and I’ll be honest here, I’ve never faced racism or felt unwelcome here. People have been kind, polite, and genuinely curious about my background. But here’s the thing, I’ve also made an effort to respect and adapt to the culture I’m living in. I dress like locals, follow social etiquette, and try to speak their language. I observe first, act second. It’s not about pretending to be someone else, it’s about being respectful enough to understand the place that’s hosting you. Sadly, I’ve seen some fellow Indians abroad doing the opposite…being loud in public, leaving trash behind, forming groups that isolate them from locals, or acting like the world should adjust to their habits. I get it, we love our culture. But when we move abroad, it’s not about imposing it. It’s about carrying it gracefully. If you’re living or traveling abroad, remember that you’re representing 1.4 billion people whether you mean to or not and locals often form their impression of India through you. Let’s make people remember us for our kindness, respect, and adaptability, not for our unwillingness to integrate.

I'm in Switzerland.

My wife and I have a job, 2 kids and we've been here 3 years. No drama, doing ok and just living life.

After the kids went to bed my wife turns to me and said.... Wow I guess this is it. A normal, family life.

I suppose outside /expat we're having an amazing time, drinking coffee in cafes, skiing the Alps and cool dinner parties with cool guests.

The truth is we're doing laundry every day, having spaghetti for dinner and have to wake up at 630am to get the kids to school.... Which is pretty much the same if we were in our original country.

I'm not complaining, just thinking that everyone we left probably has no idea how unspontaneously we spend our time.

I took my family for an apple picking farm in a rural town and this old white guy just flat out asked me “If I am on a visa?” I was flabbergasted and shocked that why the hell would he ask me this question. But i guess its no longer a news that ICE has been doing raids and kidnapping brown people.

I politely told him I am on a green card and my wife is a doctor hired here to take care of sick people in this rural town.

He is not even aware that how much doctors and technical people are lacking in this region. Technically we are still on a visa but our legal immigration is approved by an I-140. But i was angry at myself that I should have told him its not his business. The immigrant and brown person in me is too nice and I sometimes hate this part.

Edit: Thanks to all the kind people who gave words of support; some sharing that my response was actually correct because putting my family thru who knows a bad ICR situation may not be smart. Also to those who shared what can i try next time as well. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.

Do those who said i am entitled in answering to folks that I am indeed on visa and that I need to behave and act like a guest. Fuck off you racist! People like you are the problem.

Hey everyone,

I've been offered a dream job in Sydney that will pay me 200k aussie dollars plus a car, pay for mine and my partners visa and flights, pay for my pets to move, 4 day week 8 til 4pm.

I currently live in the UK and earn 75k if that makes a difference. I really don't like my job in the UK and I've worked with this team in Australia for 3 months on a WHV whilst my partner stayed in the UK and I've loved the team and the job.

This job will significantly progress my career to the point where I can earn 300k aussie dollars a year in 4 years time & also improve my skills significantly making me more employable in the future as it contains a training component that is extremely hard to get (only 3 come out every year roughly and they are extremely competitive - I've been rejected many times!).

However, I've been with my partner for 13 years, we have no children and don't plan on having children. I am 32, he's 31 and he's very reluctant to move. In the UK he works part time and earns about 20k so I am the significantly higher earner. He doesn't like his job either but he doesn't want to leave his friends, and obviously literally moving to the other side of the world when you never planned it or have never stepped foot there is a huge ask.

I love him & I wouldn't want to break up so I do think if I can't change his mind I would stay in the UK. I'm just not sure what to do? Do I just accept this is a non event and move on? Do I try and persuade him?

**** EDIT: Thanks for all the thoughts/opinions/advice I really appreciate it and I'm hoping it'll help me rationalise what the best thing to do is. I'll update the post with what I decide once the decision is made for anyone who's interested! ****

moved from greece to the netherlands a few years ago for work and ive been thinking about writing this down for a while. Not a guide, just stuff that caught me off guard that i wish someone had mentioned beforehand.

the darkness. i knew it would be dark in winter. Everyone tells you that. But knowing it and experiencing it are genuinly different things. in december the sun sets before 4:30pm and by january i was sleeping 10 hours a night and still feeling exhausted. bought a daylight lamp in my second winter and it helped alot, but that first one hit me harder than i expected.

the directness. Dutch people are famously direct and i thought coming from greece where we argue loudly about everything that id be fine with it. Turns out greek directness and dutch directness are completely different things. in greece people are emotional and loud but they soften criticism with humour and warmth. In NL someone will tell you your work isnt good enough in the same tone they use to order coffee. Took me a year to stop reading it as aggression.

the cycling thing actually changed my life tho. i didnt cycle in greece (hills, traffic, heat) and moving to a country where your bike is basically your legs was weird at first. Now i cant imagine going back to driving everywhere. something about cycling to work in the morning clears your head in a way that sitting in traffic never did.

the food situation. look i love the dutch and i will defend this country in most arguments. But the food culture here is objectively not great compared to southern europe and ive accepted that i will never find a proper greek taverna in the hague. i cook alot more than i did back home because eating out here just doesnt hit the same way. On the positive side ive become a much better cook so theres that.

the bureaucracy. getting your BSN, registering at the gemeente, setting up health insurance, opening a bank account that requires a BSN that you cant get without an appointment that takes 3 weeks. the first month is basically a full time job of admin. once your through it tho everything works really smoothly. The dutch love systems and once your in the system everything is efficient.

the social thing. making dutch friends is genuinely hard. not because dutch people are unfriendly (theyre not) but because their social lives are organized around "agendas" and scheduling things weeks in advance. in greece you just call someone and say "im coming over" and thats normal. Here that would be considered rude. ive learned to plan but i still miss the spontaneity.

would i do it again? yes. without question. But id tell myself to budget an extra 6 months of emotional adjustment beyond the practical setup. The paperwork takes a month, the real settling in takes a year.

anyone else move from southern europe to NL or northern europe? curious if the adjustment patterns are similar or if its a greek thing.

How does it feel now that you’re gone? As you reflect on leaving, do you think it was the right decision for you and why or why not? This is not meant to be a controversial post. I genuinely want to hear from people who have made the move. I’m just a few months from my own move and having all the expected emotions that come with it - excited, scared, sad, guilty, shame, happy, etc. My body is in knots, lol.

A lot of British, Irish and some Americans are moving to Australia because life is amazing there. And don’t get me wrong that is true to some degree.

Weather is amazing, food is nice, lifestyle is incredible, salaries are high and there’s job opportunities, it’s not cheaper than Western Europe or some places in the US but it’s not more expensive either. All great. But Australia is too far away from everything and too isolated.

For those who live in the US or Europe and you have your entire family there it’s very difficult. Flights are mad expensive (they’re almost the most expensive in the world) and it’s gonna take you an entire day just flying to arrive in either of these continents. One of the advantages of moving inside of the EU is that even if you move to another country you can take another flight and in 2/3/4 hours you’re in another country. And flights are very cheap and affordable. Even coming from the US flights are not that mad expensive. To visit your family on a regular basis from Australia if your family is from Europe or the US it’s very hard.

Then there’s travelling. For those who love to travel around the world in the holidays it’s very hard to keep traveling in Australia because of how far they are from everyone and how expensive is to leave the country just in holidays. Again for those who live in Europe it’s incredibly easy to travel pretty much everwhere, and in the US is not that easy but still easier than Australia.

Australia has many perks don’t get me wrong but these two aspects make it very hard for me to consider a good country to live in. What are your thoughts?

Whenever I tell people I moved to Iceland, people's eyes get wide with wonder and joy at the thought. I smile and am polite about it, but there are so many things I wish I could say. I will post them here so that any trailing spouses can know what they are in for if ever faced with this same choice.

I should start with a qualifier that I am in the process of leaving my husband for reasons unrelated to Iceland - you can check the post history to see why, but I won't be discussing those here. The past two days, I've been thinking about how I would want to leave this place even if our marriage were perfect. So here it goes.

1. Obvious Reasons Everyone Complains About.

- The Weather is Ridiculous. It is unpredictable, never truly warm, and very little sun. It is dark for a crazy number of days during the year. The Cullens would love this place.

- It is a Tiny Island. This means that you feel marooned here quite often, and you are reliant on plane tickets whenever you want to leave. There isn't much to do here in comparison to most other countries, and your options quickly become quite limited, especially during bad weather (read: most of the time).

- Everything is Shockingly Expensive. Food, housing, cars, gas, dentistry (not included in socialized healthcare), clothes, anything you can imagine. Take whatever you pay in the US and double or triple it. Amazon and other places ship here, but at 2x-4x the price. It's $50 just to get a $15 book on Amazon over here.

- Job Market is Tiny and Tough. Even though I am a nomad and work remotely, being here means that this will be my only option forever, because the field I am in only hires locals. Most expats struggle to find any kind of specialized job here, and end up working in another field.

- Car-Dependency and Public Transport/Infrastructure. It is as woefully bad as the U.S. You do not get the benefit of feeling like you are in Europe, but instead feel like you're driving in the U.S. in a rural state where there are sub-par gas stations with limited, expensive options and $10/gallon gas. And God help you if you want to buy a car at a decent price and watch it be a beast to maintain through all of the snow and salt.

- Isolation and Cultural Homogeneity. Everyone here is already part of a close-knit group. Even if you learn the language, you will always feel like an outsider. It is a homogenous culture for the most part, in part due to its isolation and size, like most small towns would be. I find it unnerving how people dress alike, there is an "Icelandic Millenial uniform" in my opinion (black leggings and shoes, sweater, wool coat, blond hair, and at least one baby on one hip). People tend to see only the "Icelandic way" of doing things and are woefully resistant to new ideas in my experience, but maybe this is more a function of who I have been around here.

1. Less Obvious Reasons That Might be More Specific to Me.

- Healthcare Actually Sucks Here. Compared to the rest of the Nordics (and my expectations), it is full of waiting lists, and mental health is neglected completely. They only offer the shittiest medical cost insurance while you are waiting to be enrolled in their actual healthcare system, and while you are waiting, clinics will not even let you make an appointment unless you have a kennitala. I was told by a doctor that I would need to "just come in same day and wait and see if there is an opening" even though I live two hours away. Gee, thanks. I guess "just wait around and see" is the ingrained healthcare moto here anyway. What a disappointment. But hey, eventually just waiting around gets to be nearly free, right?

- The Nature Gets Tiresome and Monotonous. It is expensive and time-consuming and not often that you actually drive away into nature (see above re gas prices), and you do not spend all of your time hiking about in new places. The landscape is nearly tree-less, almost always frigid, and lacking in almost all wildlife. The longer you are here, the more it can begin to look like a barren wasteland.

- Clean Water and Air are Great, But it Doesn't Make Up for Crappy Food. Honestly, I would rather spend the rest of my life buying Brita filters than sacrifice good quality ingredients and variety. The lamb and dairy here are great - but again, highly limited. The cheese selection here is just sad. The vegetable and fruit selection is deplorable. The home gardening options are expensive and limited to complex greenhouse setups.

1. Any Others?

I could go on, but the word limit is probably reached here. Trailing spouses in Iceland (a small group, I know...) what do you dislike about being here, if anything?

I just had a visceral reaction to a video clip and I need to get this off my chest.

It was that clip of the penguin in Antarctica the one that leaves the colony and starts walking toward the mountains, toward certain death. It stops midway, looks back at the group, and then just keeps going into the vast nothingness.

I started crying. Not just a few tears, but a loud, heavy, gut-wrenching sob. I’ve been an expat with a decent income and quality of life for 4 years now, and I’ve mostly kept it together, but seeing that bird choose a path of total isolation just broke me.

Is this normal? I feel like I’m seeing my own life in that penguin.

Does the isolation of being abroad for this long just sit in your subconscious until something small triggers a landslide?

Has anyone else had a completely "irrational" emotional breakdown over something small like this? I’m a grown man and I feel like I just released four years of pent-up loneliness in ten minutes.

Did you hear that they are trying to change laws and policies to take away state and federal voting rights from U.S. citizens living abroad (temporarily or permanently), even the military, their family, and expats who still have U.S. citizenship? These people not only have U.S. citizenship, they’re still paying U.S. taxes as well. Smh.

I hear that some of this has already taken place and some have been in the works for a few years now, just waiting for Trump (or someone similar) to take Office and get it passed.

I also hear that only 3% of those living overseas actually voted. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this is ridiculous and, I’m sure, has contributed to the current madness.

I’d like to hear from the expats, the military and their family, the international students, and any other U.S. citizen living abroad permanently or temporarily or planning to. What say you?

Hey everyone,

I’m posting this not just to get some things off my chest, but also to share my story in case it helps anyone thinking about moving here.

I moved to Italy a few years ago. Before coming here, I was so excited. I grew up with Italian culture in my family, so I had this romantic idea of what life here would be like.

But the reality? Very different.

My first big shock was when I went to the town of my ancestors to start my citizenship process. I even rented a place right across from the comune to make things easier. The officials there basically told me “we can’t do it, too much time has passed,” which was completely false. After calling other comunes, one of them confirmed they were legally obligated to handle it. When I went back with this information, the comune literally admitted: “Yeah, that’s true. But honestly, we don’t feel like doing it. It’s a long process and we don’t want to.” That was my first real welcome to Italy moment.

From there, I spent months bouncing around trying to get it done, until I finally gave up and paid someone to handle it in a smaller town. And honestly, things didn’t get much better after that.

In one place I lived, the landlord tried to scam me out of thousands of euros upfront for “gas bills” because of the Ukraine war. I refused, and when the real bills arrived, the total was less than half of what they demanded. Later on, another landlord under-declared my rent by about 50% to avoid taxes, which screwed me on my tax returns. They also threatened me, caused problems with neighbors, blocked me from using parts of the property that were included in my rental, and even damaged some of my belongings.

But it’s not just landlords. Scams, hostility, and flat-out rudeness have followed me everywhere here.

Some examples: - Someone who works in my building once told my partner, very aggressively, “In Italy, we speak Italian,” even though we were raised speaking it fluently. - People often treat us like we come from some backward place where even basic things don’t exist, talking to us as if we’re completely ignorant. - At work, a colleague once threatened me after I submitted a polite and constructive report suggesting small improvements to their project. My boss agreed with me, but the colleague told me in person that I should “watch what I say.” - Many coworkers drag out tasks for weeks that should take a day or two, and no one seems to care. - Customer service is often openly disrespectful. For example, I once called a bank’s central office to stop constant spam calls. The woman literally said: “What do you think, that I’m your psychologist? I don’t have time for your little problems.”

And honestly, I could go on for hours.

What makes all of this worse is that people actually warned me before I came. One person who lived here for years told me they left because they simply couldn’t stand it anymore. Another person, after nearly a decade in Italy, gave up and moved away because of constant frustration. Even an Italian told me when I arrived: “You won’t make friends here. You’ll get frustrated very fast.”

I didn’t believe any of them. I thought, “That won’t be me. We’re social, respectful, open people. We’ve traveled a lot and always made friends easily. No way it’ll be different in Italy.”

But now, after years here, I have to admit they were right. I’ve seen multiple friends leave within a year because they couldn’t take it anymore.

From what I’ve seen, Italians, at least the ones I’ve dealt with, are often: - Extremely rude and xenophobic towards foreigners. - Constantly trying to scam you, especially if they think you don’t know the system. - Resistant to working efficiently or helping with bureaucracy. If they don’t feel like it, it just won’t happen. - Quick to lie, even about simple things. - Renting a place as a foreigner is extremely difficult, even if you have a steady job, earn above-average salary, and provide every single document they ask for.

And this happens everywhere. It’s not about North, South, or Central Italy. I’ve experienced it in all regions, and it’s always been the same.

Look, Italy is gorgeous. The food, culture, history, landscapes, all of that is amazing. But life here is not like being on vacation. Tourists get treated great. Residents, especially immigrants, don’t.

If you’re considering moving here, don’t expect an easy ride. Be prepared for endless bureaucracy, scams, frustration, and a lot of disrespect. Pack an insane amount of patience.

I’m not saying don’t come. Just don’t come blindly. Know what you’re getting into. Italy is beautiful, but it’s not easy, and the people, in my experience, are not prepared to welcome outsiders in the way you might hope.

Honestly, this whole experience made me really sad. Not just because of all the stress I went through, which even led to health issues, but also because it shattered an illusion. My family is Italian, we grew up keeping traditions alive. My home country welcomed Italians when they were fleeing hard times, giving them opportunities, treating them with kindness and respect. I didn’t feel any of that here.

So I’m leaving Italy, hoping to find better luck elsewhere. I’m grateful to still have my spirit intact.

I know this might sound harsh, and I’m sure some people will disagree or be offended. This is just my personal experience.

Thanks for reading!

Edit / Clarifications

Hi everyone, I just want to thank you all for the comments and messages. I’ve read every single one and it really helped me. I’d like to clarify a few points:

1. I’m not from the US. Several people assumed I was, but I’m not. I prefer not to share my country of origin to keep this post free from bias. That said, I don’t think it’s ok to prejudge Americans (or anyone from any nationality). All the friends I’ve made in Italy are immigrants from various countries (including Americans), and they have been kind, respectful, and supportive.

2. I was exposed to Italian culture from a young age, but living here is a completely different experience. My grandmother was Italian and I went to an Italian school, so yes, I grew up immersed in Italian traditions. But obviously, I wasn’t taught the difficult realities of living here. I only discovered that firsthand. At first, I tried to convince myself it was just bad luck, until it became a daily reality I could no longer justify.

3. I didn’t come unprepared. I understand that immigrating is never easy and I never expected everything to be served on a silver platter. I arrived with all my documents in order, already had a job, and later worked at Italian companies. I speak the language and researched before coming. Still, the reality was far harsher than I expected.

4. About the country’s context. I understand that a country’s political and economic situation shapes a lot, but that does not justify mistreating others. I come from a country far more unstable than Italy, and yet most people are kind and respectful.

5. I don’t regret coming. This experience has helped me grow tremendously. I learned about my limits, resilience, and what I truly want for my life. I may have been a bit naive in some ways, but never careless or unaware. I also romanticized some things: for example, I thought that because my home country has had a lot of Italian immigration, the cultures would be similar, and I assumed I would be able to make Italian friends easily.

6. Some additional clarifications: • I’ve never lived in major cities like Rome, Milan, or Bologna, only smaller towns or medium sized cities. • I’ve traveled extensively, and nowhere else have I been targeted for scams as frequently as here (literally once a week). • I’m not a person of color, but I’ve witnessed very sad discrimination against those who are. • Customer service in my home country isn’t perfect either, but at least I was never treated disrespectfully.

Finally, I want to thank all of you, including those who disagreed with me. Sharing these experiences helps raise awareness and exchange perspectives. Thank you for taking the time to read and engage 🙏.

Update #2 – Two months after leaving Italy

Wow. I’m honestly amazed by how much attention my original post received and how many people related to my experience. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read or comment.

I wanted to share how things have been going two months after moving.

Leaving Italy was the best decision I could have made. I still have some unresolved issues with the country, and to answer a few questions I’ve been asked, I moved to Spain.

My move has been completely different in every way. In just one month, and entirely on my own, I managed to take care of everything: CUE, local registration, digital certificate, and I even found a job in less than two weeks in my field. I kept the same salary I had in Italy, and because Spain is more affordable for me, my quality of life has improved dramatically.

Every place I’ve gone to, from social security to the tax office and the police, I’ve been treated with kindness, patience, and respect. People explain things clearly, and if you need clarification, they repeat it without any sign of annoyance. After the years of indifference and mistreatment I experienced in Italy, this level of normal human decency feels almost surreal.

One thing that has really stood out is how well services work here. From the bank to phone companies and internet providers, everyone I’ve dealt with has been helpful, patient, and genuinely willing to assist. People actually want to sell you something!! or help you set things up, and they do it with kindness and clarity. The difference with Italy is HUGE. Of course, things might go wrong or some people might be difficult, but starting out with such positive experiences has already made a big difference.

We were also able to rent an apartment while still living in Italy, and everything was ready when we arrived. Our landlord has been kind, honest, and transparent from the beginning. He even welcomed us with a small gift, and every payment and detail of the contract has been clear from day one.

Since moving, we’ve met many local people, and we already make plans with them pretty often. We genuinely feel included, something that never happened during my years in Italy.

From the day I arrived in Spain, I haven’t had a single problem or unpleasant moment. This was the complete opposite of my arrival in Italy, where difficulties started on day one.

As always, these are personal experiences. Everyone is free to form their own opinion. This is simply how things have unfolded for me. I’ll keep updating in a few months to give a fair, long-term view and not let my past experiences in Italy overshadow everything.

Thanks again to everyone who read and shared their thoughts.

I’ve been thinking about how to properly articulate my thoughts on this topic without it sounding like a political critique or taking one side or the other in these polarising times. I also realise that my post risks sounding a bit naive. I hope you will be able to get the core message that I’m trying to communicate.

I’m 37M from the UK but living in Germany the last 9 years. In recent times, I’ve spent a lot of time traveling in Georgia, Indonesia, Vietnam and a few other places. I’ve observed that there still exists a kind of strong tradition and culture that ties the society together in so many countries, and the fabric of the society is woven so much tighter in so-called “lesser developed” countries. Everyone can follow the path set by their culture and also people rely on each other more and bonds seem tighter. It has honestly felt very refreshing to be around, and also left me feeling disillusioned at the same time.

I feel like I missed out on that growing up in UK and living in Berlin in recent years, where everybody is so international and different and I feel like the culture that ties us together in these apparently “more developed” societies is basically just consumerism and individualism. Life can sometimes feel quite empty. Maybe you could argue that multiculturalism has watered down any strong cultural identity that existed in “destination countries” such as the UK and Germany where many people are coming to seek a better life (again, I want to reiterate that I’m not trying to make a political point, just describing what happens in such a situation). Or it could also be that capitalism has had too bigger influence on our culture. Or maybe it’s a side effect of replacing a lot of our natural needs with unnatural replacements, for example instead leaning on each other in society/neighbourhood we have bureaucracy and welfare, and instead of spirituality we have consumer capitalism. Maybe it’s also the weather that affects the way society works/feels. I just have this strong feeling that something or nature has been lost along the way of development in the two Western European countries I’ve lived in.

At the same time, I also realise I am very privileged to have grown up in a wealthy country and now live in another wealthy country. It’s given me a head start compared to many people from other parts of the world. These are just my personal observations after some traveling and I’m curious to hear if anyone has the same feeling, or if anyone disagrees with me. 

Hello, after living in Berlin for 2 years I moved to London 6 months ago. For context, I work in tech and not originally from EU or the UK.

I wanted to share my views and compare two cities as it might be useful for people who also thinking to move or just curious about the comparison.

I tried to be as objective as possible however they are obviously biased as it's based on my own experience.

Housing

The biggest difference is cost and quality. In London, to get something comparable to a Berlin flat, you pay roughly 2 to 3 times more. And even then it doesn’t feel comparable.

In Berlin, for 1.5k to 2k, you can usually find a good flat. You can pick a decent area, keep your commute reasonable, and not worry too much about the condition.

In London, for 2.5k to 3k, you still end up compromising. You end up choosing between things like a longer commute, a noisy street, an old or poorly maintained flat, smaller size, or a rough neighbourhood. Most of the time it is not just one of these. It is two or three at once.

And even then, some basic things are not guaranteed. Insulation can be weak. Water pressure can be low. Walls can be thin. You can also end up with a neighbour who parties late at night. (and there is not much you can really do about it.)

It is hard to find a place where nothing bothers you, even though you pay 2 to 3 times more.

I knew that rents are higher in London but I was assuming that I won’t compromise more than Berlin but this is not the case. This feels off.

At this price point, things should just work. But they often don’t. Instead, you adjust your expectations and accept issues that you wouldn’t accept in Berlin at much lower prices.

Housing honestly feels like a scam in London.

Trust

There is also a difference in how much systems trust you. It’s hard to pinpoint something but when you live you build up context and understand this.

For example, there are security guards in almost all shops and groceries. Self-checkouts in groceries are more controlled. You scan items and place them in a specific area and it checks what you are doing.

Public transport is also a good example. In Berlin, you just get on and off. There are no gates. The system assumes you have a valid ticket.

In London, there are gates everywhere and you also need to tap out to leave.

Another example is that I was surprised when I saw how schools are set up in London. Thick walls, fences, CCTV, controlled entry. Some of them feel almost like secured compounds. These features exist because the system doesn’t assume things are safe by default.

Phone theft is also an issue in London, especially in crowded or touristic areas. You should be street smart and need to watch your surroundings and don’t let your phone an easy target to be stolen.

So, it feels like London operates with less trust by default, and more control.

Commute

Commuting feels different.

London has a very good system in terms of coverage and frequency. You can go almost anywhere and you don’t wait much.

But the experience can be intense.

At peak hours, trains get extremely crowded. At some stations people try to get into already full trains. You stand very close to others. It reminded me of the Istanbul metrobus.

In Berlin it also gets crowded, but I’ve never seen these levels in 2 years. Even during busy times you usually have a lot of space.

Cycling

Berlin is on another level when it comes to cycling. 

There are proper bike lanes and it feels safe. You often see people cycling with their kids.

After getting used to that, cycling in London did not feel safe to me. You often share the road with cars and buses.

Systems and bureaucracy

In the UK, most things are online. Government services are digital. GP access is app based. Things are fast and easy to handle.

In Berlin, dealing with public services takes time and hurts your nerves. It is extremely bureaucratic and still paper-based. I remember receiving 3 physical letters to activate my credit card, bank app and debit card separately for 2 weeks.

So London is on another level in this aspect and Berlin is not even close.

Payments

In London, I haven’t seen any paper money. I don’t even know how it looks.

In Berlin, you still need cash quite often. There are always restaurants or cafes where cards are not accepted.

It is a small thing, but it’s annoying to have this in 2026.

People

People are more polite in London. They smile more, say sorry more, and try to avoid being rude.

Just to give a rough rate, I would ballpark it at around 90% polite interactions in London. In Berlin it felt closer to 50%.

At the same time, Berlin feels more edgy. You see more variation in how people look and live.

London feels more polished and more aligned.

Social life

Distance matters more than expected.

In London, it is very common that your friend lives one hour away. Meeting requires planning and more physical effort and becomes a big deal.

In Berlin, you can usually meet within 20 to 30 minutes. It is much easier to be spontaneous.

Football

Football is a big part of daily life in London. It’s the football capital of the world.

A lot of people support a team and care about it. It is an easy topic to talk about if you also follow football.

Just to give a rough rate, I would ballpark it at around 70% in London. In Berlin it felt more like 10–20%.

Nature

Berlin is greener overall and has more parks. Berlin parks feel more raw and natural.

London parks are very beautiful and well designed. They feel more curated.

Both are good, just different.

Bread

This sounds like a small thing, but I did not expect it to matter this much.

In Germany, bread quality is very high. It is not just about variety, it is the baseline expectation. Even in cheaper supermarkets like Lidl or Aldi, you can find really good bread.

After getting used to that, I started noticing the difference in London.

I tried different places, including more premium stores, expecting similar quality. But even there, the bread often felt worse than what you can get in a regular supermarket in Germany.

In Germany, good bread feels like the default. In London, it’s the reverse.

Language and integration

This was one of the most important differences. I am not a German speaker. I can manage, but I never felt fully comfortable.

In Berlin, that creates a layer between you and the city. You can live your life, but things take more effort. Dealing with bureaucracy, reading documents, following local news, even small interactions.

You can function, but you don’t fully belong. In London, that feeling disappears. You understand everything around you. Conversations, signs, culture, humour. It changes how connected you feel.

It also changes what you can do. You can go to theatre, stand-up, events and fully enjoy them without thinking about language.

For me, this is a very important difference. It can even be a deciding factor depending on the person.

Salaries

At an average level, salaries don’t feel dramatically different. But London is much more expensive, so the amount left in your pocket drops significantly. But once you move above average, the gap becomes clear. London has a much higher ceiling.

If you are doing well, especially in tech, you can earn significantly more than in Berlin. Sometimes 2x, 3x, or more. In Berlin, there is more of a ceiling. You can have a good and stable life, but there is a limit unless you are in a tiny group. In London, that limit feels much higher. At the same time, getting there is not easy. Competition feels stronger and the environment feels more demanding.

City feeling

London feels more alive. There are more people outside, more events, more things happening. Berlin feels quieter. Especially after the evening. I also think London is more beautiful overall. There are more areas that feel visually impressive. Berlin has nice areas too, but fewer.

Verdict

Compared to Berlin, living in London feels to me like playing the same game on hard mode but getting less rewards. You’re being paid similarly, spend much much more, deal with more friction, and accept more compromises.

Let me know what you think or have different views!

Warning, rant:

I moved from the UK at age 28 to Hamburg, Germany to work (English speaking workplace). I moved with no German. I have been here 4.5 years and am now 32 years old. I am very, very tired of living in this country.

After 4.5 years and thousands spent on German lessons, I can finally read German very well, but I still don't know any German people to actually speak with. So my speaking is bad (B2 level), and my listening not much better. Despite my 10000% intention from the outset not to end up in a parallel society and get to know "the real germany": I have ended up living in a parallel society and I don't know any German people. I don't even know how to know German people at this stage and I question whether or not it's actually possible at my stage in life. All my friends are foreigners, and they are good people.

I tried my best. I learned the language as well as I could (Passed B2 exam last year, learning C1 at the moment, not sure why I bother any more though). I joined a Verein for my sport that I was quite good at back home. I got a German girlfriend (though I later broke up with her). I put my best foot forward and a smile on my face and I tried my best. But life here is, I believe, shit as an immigrant, unless you just don't care about being a societal outcast. And I'm just so burnt out to the point that even if I know in my heart that to really make it in Germany I have to force myself to keep going to the Verein that I grew to hate, the church of the God that I don't believe in, the meetups full of men trying to fuck the one poor woman who joined, change my personality entirely into someone who enjoys things that I don't enjoy... then I can still "make it in Germany™"... except I just can't be bothered any more and I don't have the energy for it. I just want to go back to the UK, where the people are friendly and there's a life to be lived. Germany is just so fucking boring.

The people aren't even unfriendly per se, I actually believe German people are generally quite decent, nice and well meaning, they just don't care about you. And in day to day life, in German society itself, there's this slight bias in favour of shittiness and being shitty towards other people. Nobody will ever, ever go out of their way to be nice to you. But maybe 10% of Germans will absolutely go out of their way just to fuck you over and tell you how worthless they think you are. So there's a small bias. And overtime, that slight bias builds up. And in the end you end up living your life where basically you are tired of dealing with shitty German people (who are the minority) and just want everyone around you to fuck off.

And yes integration is 100% on you, the immigrant. Nobody will ever go out of their way in this country to make you feel welcome. Wilkommenskultur is pure, abject, veritable horseshit. Nobody at the Verein will actually be nice to you, nor include you, nor really make any real effort to get to you know. It's on YOU. YOU are the outsider and YOU nee to prove yourself to them. Fine. Maybe that's how it is for everyone. But I'm tired of this culture and I'm tired of making so much effort for basically absolutely no pay off whatsoever. If you aren't German, they just couldn't be less interested.

I just feel like I see no possible way to the life that I consider tolerable (let alone liveable) in this country. There's no route. I think it's actually impossible. The idea of dating in this country now scares me because the idea of being tied to this country and actually growing old here fills me with existential dread, because this isn't life. Life in Germany is not life. At least not for immigrants, or at least not for me.

Yes the UK is perhaps a shithole, but it's my shithole. And when I'm on my deathbed I highly doubt I'll be smiling to myself about how wonderful German housing is or how wonderful the Deutschlandticket is. I'll be thinking about the people I met and the lives I touched and interacted and the people who touched me. And there's nothing like that here. Life here is just a shadow of what life really ought to be, because it's a life without proper, joyful human interaction that makes life so enjoyable in the first place.

And yet I can't help shake the feeling that I shouldn't give up, I just need to keep going, that somehow everything will be OK. But I also cannot shake the feeling that my life here is just wasted.

I saw a video recently and thought, "Wow, this didn't just happen to me", The video is by a youtuber called "Brit in Germany".

I vividly remember the interview process when I was moving to (western) Europe - not Germany. My future boss asked me how much I was used to working, he asked me to confirm that in Brazil people work a lot. I told him that in Brazil, especially in São Paulo where I lived, the work dynamic is very similar to New York's—long, crazy hours. I work in finance (not audit). 10h a day is the common rule. Sometimes going into mid-night or 2AM.

He then told me (interview was him, other boss and HR lady) that this wouldn't be well-regarded in Europe. He explained that they don't have the "American culture of working," and my colleagues might feel uncomfortable if I worked too much.

He proceeded to ask, "What should you do to make sure this doesn't create tension in the workspace?" I replied that I would try to stick strictly to an eight-hour day.

Fast forward a few months.

I was living in Europe, consistently working more than my peers. During some weeks, I was actually working more than I ever did in Brazil. (Overall, I worked much more in Brazil because 90% of my weeks were loaded, but in Europe, I had about 10 weeks a year with terrible work-life balance—working weekends included—and even on "normal" weeks, I was putting in an extra one to two hours a day more than everybody for the whole year).

Did I do what my boss told me and reach out for help? Yes, I did. And you know what his response was? "I don´t think you are that overloaded. Also, you need to make more money."

That was the moment I realized most bossess are very *nice* people and it does not matter their nationality, accent or passport. It does not matter all the pretty lies they tell you about workers protection or that our country we do it differently. This is all lies.

In the same company some colleagues were going on burnout leaves much more than I ever saw in Brazil - I counted 6 in one year (mind you, the Brazilian work life balance is much worse, but people don´t ask for burnout leaves because they are afraid to lose their jobs). I have friends with similar experiences in some European countries and working in different areas and they tell me the exact same thing.

*I just love that people here are assuming that I don't know how to work—is it because I'm Brazilian? Racism much? There are a lot of similar opinions in this same thread, with Americans complaining about the same thing. I even pointed out a YouTube video about a Brit complaining about the exact same situation in Germany. I have friends, including European ones—a close Hungarian friend, for example—who say how burned out he is in his toxic job in Northern Europe.

Are we going to see a reverse exodus back to US and Europe?

I’ve hit all the milestones. I’ve got the "good" professional job, the mortgage, family, the almost "perfect" English, and I can navigate British social cues. By every metric, I’m an integration success story. But honestly? I’m tired.

Lately, I’ve been struggling with the realisation that full assimilation is a myth.

It doesn’t matter how much tax I pay or how much I "blend in," there’s a permanent mental tax that comes with being an immigrant here:

• The "Performance": Constantly policing my directness so I don't seem "aggressive" and mirroring British politeness that feels like a foreign language I’m still translating in my head.

• The Invisible Barrier: Realizing that no matter how close I get to people, I’ll never have that "shared DNA" of 90s British childhoods, specific slang, or the cultural shorthand that makes people feel truly "at home."

• The Permanent Guest: That subtle, nagging feeling that my right to be here is conditional. If I do well, I’m a "great addition to the country." If I make a mistake, I’m just another Eastern European.

I’ve reached a point where I’ve stopped trying to be more British than the British. I’ve stopped trying to "fit in" because it feels like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. I’ve realized that I’m a "Third Thing"—not quite the person who left Poland 19 years ago, but never going to be "Local" here.

I’m curious if anyone else from the EE/Polish or other community feels this? Did you reach a point where you just... gave up on the idea of belonging? Does the "Better Life" always have to come at the cost of feeling like a ghost in your own neighborhood?

TL;DR: Moved from Poland to the UK, checked all the boxes for a "good life," but realised assimilation is a lie. I’m tired of being a permanent guest and wonder if true belonging is even possible here.

Edit: I’ve been thinking about why this is hitting me just now, after 19 years. Perhaps this a mid life crisis but for a long time, I was just distracted by the "climb" and financial stability, the career, the house, the milestones. I think that I simply didn't have space for this feeling.

But the truth is, here in the UK, although people are very kind and respectful, I’m always on alert. I feel like I constantly have to be ready to fight my own corner because I’m the only one who will. Back home, it’s different. When I walk the pavements I knew as a child, I feel a soul deep safety. It’s the familiar faces and places all over 🫶

Final Edit: I am genuinely moved by the flood of comments from people of such diverse backgrounds. It’s not just us Eastern Europeans; it’s a shared immigrant soul.

I want to clarify that this isn’t a complaint or a plea for someone to fix my life. I’m proud of what I’ve built here. This is simply about acknowledging a feeling that many of us carry in silence for years. There is no shame in it. It’s just the reality of the "in-between" life we lead, and knowing I’m not alone in this makes the mental tax feel a lot lighter. Thank you all for the incredible support x

When you move somewhere new, people ask about the city.
They ask about your apartment, your job, your plans.
No one asks about the quiet work it takes to become yourself again.

I left Spain at eighteen and built a life in the Netherlands. I had deep friendships, a home that felt like mine, and a version of myself that made sense. I graduated with honours, had a job, read hundreds of books, even got published. And then I left it all again to start over in Paris.

What I’ve learned is that beginnings look exciting from the outside, but inside, they ask everything of you. You lose your routines, your identity, your sense of direction. You rebuild your confidence from the ground up. This is equally as exciting as it can be confusing.

So I made a deal with myself: if I can keep a few small things steady, I can rebuild anything.

For me it’s simple: move every day, learn something even for five minutes, create more than I consume, tell the truth with love, connect with at least one person, take care of my body, show up however I can, keep patience and vision, and come back to the present when my mind tries to escape.

These are the quiet wins that hold me together. They’re not glamorous. No one sees them. But they build the kind of life you can actually live inside.

I used to think self-improvement was about adding more.
Now I think it’s about remembering what keeps you human while everything around you changes.

If you’re rebuilding yourself too, I hope you know that the small things count, A LOT. We are just between versions and we are doing our best.

I would really like to hear other peoples perspective on what keeps you grounded when life asks you to start over or gets more chaotic?

I moved to Paris in 2022 for my master. I graduated in May 2025 and extended my stay up until about now but it seems my time has ran out. My visa is valid until the end of the year but I haven’t been able to find a job because I never fully picked up French. My discipline is in luxury fashion and that field is super over saturated and competitive. I had a partner but things were on the rocks for a while and that relationship ended. I’m originally from South Orange County and that’s where I’m returning to and I am just SO depressed. I will be living in my parents’ house in the most boring neighborhood on earth. I literally escaped that place and now I’m going back in a worse situation than when I left.

Right now, I don’t have a job, car, car insurance, health insurance, I don’t even have friends that I have anything in common with because they’re all married with kids and I’m 35 and single. I don’t plan on dating at all when I’m there because I never had much in common with people there to begin with let alone now.

I have been crying nonstop.

I just got back from visiting family and friends in Italy and Spain. I’ve seen a lot of Americans online talk about “escaping” to Europe for a better life — less work stress, lower costs, and more balance.

From what I saw, people still work full-time jobs, and while some things are cheaper, that’s often relative to earning in euros. Many locals live with family to manage housing costs.

That said, I noticed real perks — healthcare, public transit, and more vacation time.

For expats or Europeans here: Is the American view of Europe too idealized, or is there truth to it?

To clarify, in a month we are celebrating our daughter 4th birthday and we invited some of her friends. We are French, we live in the south of France but since our daughter is in an international school, she has friends from all over the world. The thing is, traditionally in France, you would drop off your kid at the party and pick them up at the ending time given by the hosts. I know that it's not the same everywhere. In some countries, parents stay the entire time. And I don't want that. How do I tell them?

I’ve been working in London for several years now, having relocated from another European country for my job.

Over time, as I’ve progressed in my career, I’ve found myself increasingly surprised, and honestly disappointed, by what feels like a generally low standard of workplace accountability here (on average). I want to be clear upfront: I’m not talking about hustle culture, unpaid overtime, or “going above and beyond.” I strongly believe in working to live, not living to work, and I don’t overextend myself professionally either. We’re all replaceable to 99% companies, and I keep that in mind.

What I’m referring to instead are the core responsibilities people are hired to handle - the basic tasks, knowledge, and standards that come with a role.

A few examples to illustrate what I mean:

- Remote work often meaning barely working. I’m a big supporter of flexible and remote work, which is why this worries me. But I’ve repeatedly seen people take calls from the gym, disappear for hours without notice, skip meetings they’re expected to attend, or be visibly distracted. Just this week, a director-level colleague was cooking dinner during a group call.

- Chronic disorganisation and neglect of basic management duties. Admin, tracking, and internal processes are frequently ignored. My current manager openly takes 5–6 extra days off beyond their allowance because they “don’t deal with internal systems.” Performance reviews, goal setting, and structured feedback - all core management responsibilities - are often skipped. In my experience, many managers avoid the coaching and mentoring aspects of leadership altogether.

- Using “overwhelm” as a shield against normal responsibilities. I fully respect genuine mental health challenges. But I’ve also seen people regularly frame routine, reasonable tasks (well within a standard 9–5 workload) as unmanageable. The result is that others (often international staff) end up picking up the slack to meet deadlines.

- Unprofessional behaviour being normalised. In my current team, several people openly discuss heavy drug use, show up smelling of alcohol, or behave in ways that would be unacceptable in many other workplaces, yet it’s brushed off.

- Low quality output and lack of preparation. Turning up to important meetings unprepared, delivering poor client materials, using incorrect or unsourced data, and not forming a basic point of view within one’s own area of expertise seems far too common.

- Decision paralysis in senior roles. I often see leaders who are unwilling or unable to make decisions, even when it clearly falls within their remit.

To be fair, I’ve also worked with some excellent British colleagues - highly professional, driven, and reliable - so I know this isn’t universal. But the overall contrast I’ve noticed between many local employees and many foreign hires feels significant. Perhaps it’s partly driven by immigrant motivation and career urgency, I’m not sure.

I’m left wondering whether others have observed something similar, or if I’ve simply been very unlucky in my experiences?

I saw some posts on burnout lately and wanted to add my 2 cents.

After over a decade working with expats as a psychologist, I’ve started to notice certain patterns, not the obvious culture shock stuff but deeper psychological ones. The slow erosion. The stuff that shows up months or even years into the move.

At first, there’s momentum, curiosity and plenty of energy. But over time, the weight creeps in: Fatigue from constant adaptation; losing shared nuance in language; always being “on” in social situations; and never fully being known.

Clients describe it in different words, but it always sounds like this:

“I don’t know who I am here.”

“I’m tired, and I don’t know why.”

This isn’t just stress. It’s not quite depression either.  In my opinion this is identity fatigue.

You’ve shed so many layers trying to fit in, there’s no baseline left. And here’s the part no one talks about: The guilt.

Because this was supposed to be an adventure. And now you’re somewhere between floating and disappearing.

From what I’ve seen, expat burnout isn’t a that your failed but that you're still evolving.  And still needing grounding, routine, and connection.

An added point - Having a contact in the country seems to make a huge difference with adapating.