Let’s start with what you usually see online.
The travel selfies, capturing moments of joy and adventure as we explore the world around us. The morning leisure, savoring a delicious plate of tapas while soaking in the vibrant atmosphere of a bustling café. Kids laughing on the beach, their carefree spirits mirrored in the waves crashing against the shore, while parents enjoy the simple pleasure of watching them play. New homes bathed in golden hour light, showcasing the beauty of architecture intertwined with nature, inviting a sense of warmth and comfort as the day comes to an end. Each image tells a story, drawing us into the experiences of others, igniting our wanderlust and inspiring us to create our own memorable moments.

And trust me—I’ve posted some of those too.

But if you scrolled just a little past the frame, you’d probably see a kid meltdown, complete with cries that echo off the tile floors. You also see a pile of unfolded clothes stacked haphazardly in a cart, a testimony to my earlier plans that fell through. There I am, squinting at Google Translate while walking aimlessly in a supermarket aisle, trying to decipher the labels on various products, wondering if I should risk the unknown flavors or stick with the familiar. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, and the faint sound of a shopping cart clattering creates a backdrop to my confusion as I juggle my shopping list and a toddler’s demands.

Because real life after moving abroad? It’s messy. It’s humbling. And it’s not always Instagram-worthy.

The Highlight Reel vs. Real Life

We’ve moved across three countries in three years.
The journey started in the colorful chaos of Mexico, where vibrant markets filled with fresh produce and lively music became our daily backdrop. The rich culture enveloped us, and we found ourselves captivated by the warmth and hospitality of the locals. Then, it continued with the familiar-yet-challenging pace of Indonesia, where the stunning landscapes and diverse traditions presented both beauty and complexity. Now, we embrace the calm, coastal rhythm of Spain, where the azure waters and sun-drenched shores invite a slower lifestyle. Each place has left an indelible mark on our hearts, shaping our perspectives and deepening our appreciation for the world around us.

It sounds adventurous—and it is—but not for the reasons you’d think.

Adventure is… realizing your paperwork is delayed by a month and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Adventure is… trying to enroll your child in school using forms in a language you barely speak.
Adventure is… watching your carefully made “plan” unravel, again and again, until you learn to stop clinging to perfection.

What They Don’t Show on Instagram

There’s something disorienting about starting over so many times, as each new beginning comes with its own set of challenges and uncertainties. You don’t realize how comforting routine is until you don’t have one, as the once-familiar patterns of your daily life dissolve into a sea of unpredictability. You can’t find anyone in your circle that can understand your struggle, leaving you to navigate these turbulent waters alone, often questioning your decisions and your resilience. It’s a journey that feels lonely yet empowering, as each step forward, no matter how small, builds a sense of strength within you, teaching invaluable lessons about adaptability and self-discovery.

In Indonesia, I spent the first few months juggling a demanding job with my daughter’s recurring health scares, which took an emotional toll on me like nothing I had ever experienced before. She was hospitalized three times in six months due to various health issues, each visit punctuated by a wave of anxiety and dread that engulfed our family. It broke me—and forced me to pause and re-evaluate everything, from my career aspirations to my parenting approach, as I realized that her wellbeing should always come first. The stress of balancing my professional responsibilities while being present for her during such a vulnerable time prompted deep reflections on my priorities and the fragile nature of life. I began to appreciate the small moments of joy amidst the chaos, learning to cherish my daughter’s laughter as a powerful reminder of resilience even in adversity.

We moved again—this time to Spain—hoping for a slower, healthier pace that would allow us to truly enjoy life and savor each moment. But even that wasn’t smooth. Despite all our meticulous preparation and research, we still couldn’t find a place to rent in bustling Barcelona. Housing requirements we’d never even heard of stood in our way, complicating our search significantly. After countless hours of frustration and disappointment, we ended up in a picturesque, quiet town 1.5 hours away, where the pace is slower, the air is fresher, and the people are welcoming… and honestly, just what we needed to recharge our spirits and reconnect with ourselves.

It wasn’t what we planned.
But it turned out to be what we needed.

What I’ve Learned (The Real Lessons)

This isn’t a “how to move abroad” guide.
It’s more like a love letter to anyone who’s ever started over. It’s for those who felt like they were falling apart before things fell into place.

Here’s what stuck with me:

• You’ll never regret choosing your values. For us, that was health and safety. Every move was rooted in protecting those.
• Ask for help early. We worked with a financial consultant before moving to Spain, and it made all the difference.
• Information is gold. Double-check the paperwork. Triple-check. Or risk a surprise visa run like we did (hello, Malaysia 👋).
• Let go of control. Things rarely go as planned. But sometimes, what unfolds is even better.
• Your kids will adapt. It will take time. There will be tears. But their resilience will amaze you.
• Perfection is a lie. Take things one step at a time. Every country is different, even when they speak the same language.

What Helps Me Stay Grounded

I don’t have it all figured out, but I’ve found a rhythm that works—for this season.

I keep a loose meal plan in my Balanced Hive Planner—nothing rigid, just a gentle outline. I’ve learned to plan meals around what we actually have time and energy for. Home-cooked meals are my way of proving “home” for my daughter. Even when the moving process was exhausting, I still set aside time and energy. I would prepare 1 or 2 of her favorite dishes.

I use the Monthly Budget Tracker to plan for occasional takeout. It also helps me manage those unexpected expenses that come with living somewhere new. I have been extra mindful in spending money because the move made me let go of a lot of things. So I cautiously spend money on something truly useful and of good quality so it lasts.

It’s not about being perfectly organized. It’s about protecting our peace.
It’s not about having details figured out. It is about giving room to that little chaos to color your day.

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So if you’re watching someone’s dreamy “moving abroad” montage and wondering why your life doesn’t look like that, I hope this reminds you:

Real life is allowed to be messy.
Transitions are supposed to stretch you.
And you’re not doing it wrong if it’s hard.

Behind every picturesque expat photo is a family trying their best.
Behind every “new beginning” is a quiet goodbye.

And if your story looks more like survival than celebration right now, you’re still doing great.

🌍❤️