I thought I was on track — until the year everything fell apart.
Just weeks into January 2023, I was blindsided by an unexpected breakup. In the months that followed, I moved through my days on autopilot, watching the year continue to unravel.
That May, I was laid off from my job coordinating large conferences and corporate travel. I took a position at a family-run wedding business that was building out its travel department. I told myself things were starting to look up.
But between a 90-minute commute, sitting at a desk all day, and performing mundane tasks not listed in my job description, I began to spiral instead of heal.
Almost every day, I’d retreat to my car at lunchtime and break down in tears, overwhelmed by how unhappy I was.
The “American dream” began to feel like a trap
Since I was a kid, I’d treated success like a checklist built from American expectations I absorbed through school, TV, and social media. It seemed simple enough: Stay in line with peers, get married before turning 30, and buy a big house to raise a family in.
It was becoming clear that this narrative might not align with the life I wanted for myself.
Later that same year, I dealt with a toxic roommate, a serious health scare in my family, and a car accident. Then, just days before the New Year, I got one final surprise: another layoff. This time, however, I felt relief.
Walking out of that office for the last time allowed me to stop chasing a version of success I knew would never satisfy me.
Distance changed the pressure I was living under
As 2024 began, I set a clear goal for myself to sublet my apartment, sell my belongings, and board a one-way flight to South Korea by April 15. My plan was to begin an eight-month journey across Asia and Australia. After four months of careful planning, I boarded that flight.
Starting the trip with a friend in Seoul made the beginning — and the 15-hour flight over — feel safe and manageable. When she boarded her flight back to the US, and I headed off to Thailand alone, that distraction disappeared. I was officially left alone with my own thoughts.
Early on in Southeast Asia, I questioned what I was doing and where it would all lead. I cried in hostels and had panic attacks on the back of motorbikes. My anxiety was triggered by the blasting music of Bangkok’s Khao San Road and Ho Chi Minh City’s endless traffic.
Provided by Macie Strum
The more I took note of my surroundings, the less the world around me matched the urgency in my head.
As I traveled the Ha Giang Loop in Northern Vietnam by motorbike, I realized that my idea of success was built upon a level of pressure that didn’t exist up in these Vietnamese mountains. Local life didn’t revolve around strict deadlines and productivity scales. Instead, it centered on routine, family, and staying present each day.
As I moved through each country, I connected with travelers of every age and background, many of whom were unemployed, exploring new paths, working online, or simply figuring things out as they went. Some were meticulous planners; others lived day to day.
In the jungles of Malaysian Borneo, I met a fellow American who was also redefining her life after a heavy breakup. I remember the first night we met, we talked for hours about life, expectations, and the fear of what would come next.
We ended up traveling together to Kuala Lumpur, meeting again in Penang, and later in Bali. Seeing her in so many different places reminded me how many others were navigating the same uncertainty.
It reframed my view of travel — not as a break from real life, but as an active part of it. For the first time, uncertainty no longer felt like failure.
Provided by Macie Strum
I’ve redefined success
When that trip came to an end, I felt no pull toward the life I’d left the year before.
I returned to the US briefly, but chose to keep traveling to explore what alternative versions of success could look like for me.
In 2025, that decision took me to 17 European countries. As I explored, I found myself falling in love with one of the continent’s most misunderstood regions: the Balkans.
Today, I live in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, building a career as a freelance journalist without sacrificing my ability to travel. While the life I’m creating may not match the version of success I was raised with, it’s more aligned with how I want to live: flexibly, deliberately, and with purpose.
While I don’t know exactly what comes next, that no longer scares me the way it once did.
Do you have a story to share about living abroad? Contact the editor at akarplus@businessinsider.com.
