I consider myself a rare breed of eccentric, seeing as I knew from a young age that somehow and in some way, I was going to end up living abroad. The idea was appealing even as a nine year old, and I blame that on how much of the world I was blessed with seeing prior to reaching a double digit age.
Let’s be real, though. A lot of the time, the people you see living abroad (probably myself included) post pictures and stories that make it seem like it’s all glitz and glam: perfectly delicious and presented food, majestic natural scenery, and not to mention, intriguing stories that make you wish you’d been there in person. That’s all that’s on Pinterest, Instagram, Facebook, and any other social media account you can possibly think of. And I’m about to be honest. Like, entirely too honest. From this point forward, there’s #nofilter: life abroad is not like what you see on the internet. In fact, especially in the beginning, it’s far from it.
Imagine you’re on this roller coaster, slowly climbing up to the top. There’s so much anticipation and you just desperately want to get to the top and fall, even though you know you’ll be screaming with your arms held up above your head. It’s about the same as when you’re getting ready to move abroad, at least from my own experience. Some moments in the midst of my preparation, I was overjoyed. Others I wanted to rip my hair out and scream because of technical difficulties or the infamous “sorry, but we are unable to assist you”.
But, by the end of it, there’s this release of tension, stress, fear, and everything else. Because by the end of all that prep work, you’re standing in the airport with your carry-on, passport, tears streaming down your face, but your heart is swelling with one thought in your mind: this is it. I’m really doing this.
And then the roller coaster propels itself forward and you don’t have control over it. Don’t even try to control it because there are going to be moments of pure joy–totally knowing this was the best decision you’ve made yet–and then there are going to be moments where you collapse to your bed and you’re convinced you aren’t cut out for life abroad.
There were far too many times where one small thing would happen and it would break me. Absolutely break me. For instance, three months into living in Taiwan, a lady approached me on the bus, speaking nothing but Mandarin. She started to pet my arm, telling me I was “so white and beautiful”. Just thinking about it still gives me the chills sometimes, just by how strange it was and how much it threw me off. But these things will happen. And they still do, even after two years abroad at times.
Life abroad isn’t what you think. It tests you and exposes your weakest points, showing you points of improvement. And if you’re brave enough, you’ll accept them and take it as advice for the coming months or years. Going to a place where no one knows your name, your reputation, your history, and where you know about close to the same about said place really gives you the time and space to shape the person you want to become.
So, it’s not all cute Instagram meal photos or iconic poses in front of gigantic mountains. But it’s much more than that. It’s a chance to really discover another place, and to see that there’s more to you than meets the eye. It gives you a chance to showcase what you’re really made of.
It’s true: it takes guts, and a lot of crazy to do something like move abroad. And it also takes patience. You have to be patient and know that despite all the weird moments, potential strangers coming to admire your foreign appeal, there are going to moments where you are going to be so glad you made the choice to move. Like I always tell people, and myself, the things that scare us the most are the things we need to do. Everything we want is on the other side of fear.
Even now, two years on, life abroad is not fancy by any means. But it’s one of the things that I will forever be grateful I did. Because two years ago, in the middle of O’Hare Airport, I could have turned around. I could have said “screw it” and ran back into my family’s arms, forgoing a seven hundred dollar ticket and a potential job.
But I didn’t. I turned, headed through security, and embraced all that was about to happen to me: the good, the bad, and the ugly. And I’m pleased to say that somewhere through the strange bus encounters, odd Tinder dates, hilarious stories from the classroom that my students have told me, I found out more about life in Asia, but I also learned something else: who I really am and what I want most in this life.
