Lived Abroad for 13 Years Before Coming Home; Right Call

In 2010, my partner and I set off on what I thought was a gap year.

After meeting while studying abroad in Switzerland back in 2008, we spent nearly two years in a long-distance relationship. We were ready to get back to our traveling roots and finally be together full-time.

The plan was to spend six months living and working in New Zealand, save up as much money as we possibly could, and then take those savings with us to travel through Australia and Southeast Asia.

My initial goal was to eventually land back on the East Coast, ready to start a master’s program and get on with being a grown-up.

What happened instead was that we spent 13 years in New Zealand, Australia, South Korea, Mexico, and finally Lithuania before finally making our way back to where we started … sort of.

My gap year just kept going

It was September 2010. Instagram wouldn’t launch until later that year. I didn’t even have a smartphone.

All this is to say, finding like-minded people online wasn’t possible for me. It wasn’t until we got to New Zealand, stayed in hostels around the country, and worked temp jobs with other backpackers that we learned how many people were living a life on the road, devoting their lives to travel.

Through other travelers, I learned about the working holiday visa in Australia, an opportunity to teach English in South Korea, and how to explore Southeast Asia on a shoestring budget.

I realized that countless other 20-somethings from around the world were shunning the blueprint created for them back home and building lives, at least for now, that offered them total freedom.

For the next decade, we lived around the world. We road-tripped through Australia’s Red Center, navigated night markets in Taipei, and learned to scuba-dive in the Philippines.

Every day felt like an adventure, even the days filled with work, because I was living them somewhere entirely new. I vowed never to return to a “normal life” in New York.

It was a dream until it wasn’t

I often joke that Lithuania broke me. After five years in Mexico, the COVID-19 pandemic forced us both to look for work elsewhere.

We landed in a small town in Lithuania in the middle of July 2021. The sun was up from 5 a.m. until 11 p.m., and the 85-degree temperature was perfect for long walks and swims in Lithuania’s many lakes.

Summer quickly turned to fall, which lasted about a week, and then by mid-October, winter had arrived. The endless summer days gave way to long winter nights. I spent many mornings in my kitchen with a cup of coffee at 8 a.m., looking out the window, still waiting for the sun to come up.

The winters were brutal, yes, but what living in rural Lithuania showed me most was that I had no ties, no community, and no one to call up on those dark, lonely mornings.

A life free of ties, obligations, and responsibility was wonderful in my 20s, but as I turned 35 during my second winter in Lithuania, I felt unmoored.

When my partner received a job offer in Seattle, we initially scoffed at it. I had spent 13 years promising everyone around me that I would never move back to the US.

However, when another snowstorm came through in mid-April of that year, we sat down and started seriously considering returning to the US. I’m from New York, so I reasoned that Seattle would be a whole new adventure — almost like moving to a new country.

Surprisingly, coming home was just what I needed

The biggest hurdle with coming back to live in the US was my own ego. I had to tell family, friends, and Instagram that I was coming home. It felt, in many ways, like I had failed.

It turned out to be the right move, though. After years abroad, it was a relief to settle back into an English-speaking country in a culture that I understood.

The ease of calling a plumber, communicating at the post office, and most of all, building deep, meaningful friendships all drew me closer to home.

It’s been two years since I landed back in the country and signed a lease in Seattle. Although it’s not perfect, living in five countries and traveling to 30 more has taught me that nowhere is — but right now, it’s the best it’s ever been.