Could you live abroad?

Yaowarat Road, Bangkok, 2025

After over six years of living between China, Italy, and Vietnam, I’ve learned that moving to another country changes you in ways you can’t anticipate. There are incredible highs, but also unexpected challenges you never think about until you’re in the middle of them.

So, could you do it? Could you really uproot your life and start again somewhere completely new? Here are some of my key lessons learned to help you make the decision.

Could you live without banter?

I remember sitting in a London pub in January 2023, watching my friend perform with her improv team. As we joked over post-show drinks, I suddenly thought, Oh gosh… I really miss this. It had been some time that I’d been able to freely banter in the most British or senses.

Living abroad forces you to notice the smallest details about language — the idioms, the slang, the turns of phrase you normally take for granted. Sometimes your clever quip falls completely flat. Other times, you accidentally cause confusion without meaning to.

I’ve found that learning even a little of the local language helps more than you think. It teaches you how people naturally structure sentences, which makes it easier to build your own without cramming in unnecessary idioms. But direct translations don’t always land, and sometimes you just have to let go of what feels normal.

Would you be able to let go of your own norms and learn the why behind someone else’s?

In my first month in China, I sneezed one day and nobody said, “Bless you.” It sounds trivial, but I’d never realised how much I relied on these tiny social rituals.

Then there were doors — or rather, the fact that nobody held them open. And the day I arrived at the factory canteen two minutes too late, watching someone a few places ahead of me scoop up the last of the rice… I remember being furious.

At the time, I thought people were rude or inconsiderate. They weren’t. I was just bumping up against deep cultural differences.

Over time, I learned to get curious instead of frustrated. When you start digging into the history behind those “little things,” you realise just how much context shapes culture. That understanding doesn’t remove every frustration, but it makes you a better guest.

Which comforts would you be willing to leave behind?

One of the most surprising parts of living abroad has been just how far — or not — your money goes. In Saigon, I can jump on the back of a scooter for less than £1 and travel across the city. The other week, my dinner was £4 for a main and a juice — with leftovers to take home.

But it isn’t all cheap. Deodorant, sunscreen, and tampons? Surprisingly expensive in China, if you can find them at all. It takes time to track down brands you trust, and sometimes you just have to bring your favourites from home.

I’ve learned to prioritise what matters most to me and accept that creature comforts will cost more — or might not exist at all.

How would you cope with making deep connections, knowing you’ll have to say goodbye sooner than you’d like?

“It’s heartbreaking to leave sometimes. I go, and I leave little pieces of my heart around the world … like horcruxes.” (IYKYK)

My friend Brandi said this as she packed up for her next adventure, and it stuck with me.

One of the best parts of living abroad has been the incredible people I’ve met. From colleagues to creatives to strangers who became close friends overnight, my time in China, Italy, and Vietnam has been shaped by these connections. There’s a unique openness you find among people who’ve also stepped far outside their comfort zones.

When people ask about my favourite part of living in China, I always say, without thinking: “The people.” They’re the reason goodbyes are so hard — but they also make every reunion that much sweeter.

Could you protect your boundaries while still showing up for your team?

Working across time zones adds a new layer of complexity. In Southeast Asia, the time difference with the US often meant giving up evenings to join critical calls or provide updates.

There’s no easy answer here — it’s about setting boundaries and having open conversations. Can you switch some updates to email? Rotate meeting times so everyone shares the burden?

If you don’t set expectations early, you risk burning out, fast.

How would you handle missing milestones in the lives of the people you love?

When my aunt passed away recently, I couldn’t get back to Scotland in time for her funeral. I couldn’t hug my cousins in their moment of grief. I was a 20-hour flight away.

That’s the part nobody talks about — the moments you can’t get back. It’s not just funerals and weddings. It’s restaurants closing, friendships drifting, nieces and nephews growing up without you there.

Choosing to live abroad means accepting that you’ll miss things. You grieve the small and the big, but you also learn to nurture the relationships that matter most.

Are you ready to have your perspective — and your limits — tested?

I always say I learned more in one year in China than in the previous ten. Working in manufacturing hubs across Asia has been a steep learning curve — intense, challenging, and unbelievably rewarding.

I’m a stronger leader and a better engineer because of it, but it wasn’t easy. You’re constantly adapting, constantly learning, constantly stretched.

Does the idea of exploring new places excite you more than the comfort of staying put?

As I write this, I’m on a bumpy minibus headed for Ben Phe, a tiny town a few hours south of Bangkok. One of the best parts of living abroad is just how close new adventures are. A weekend trip to another country is sometimes just a short flight away.

I’ve made the most of it — ticking off countries, exploring cultures, and collecting memories I never would have had if I’d stayed home.

It isn’t always easy, but it’s always worth it.

Living abroad…. The verdict

Whenever someone asks me to describe my time abroad, I always say: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” And I think by now, you can see why.

Living in another country will change you in ways you can’t predict. It’s more than just an adventure — it’s heartbreak, hard work, and huge personal growth.

In 2023, I reconnected with ten friends I’d met years earlier in China. After years apart, we picked up exactly where we left off — proof that some connections survive any distance.

Who knows where this next chapter in Vietnam will take me. But I know it’s taking me somewhere.

Could you see yourself living the “foreigner life”? And if so, what would you gain — and what would you be willing to lose?

Not moving abroad but have a trip coming up soon to east or south east Asia? Get ready with my business trip guide.

What else would you add to this list, leave me a comment below!