There are some things you expect when you move to a new country: culture shock, amazing food, maybe a little homesickness, and hopefully some adventure. But there are other things—deeper things—that only reveal themselves once you’ve been living abroad for a while. And even more that you don’t fully appreciate until after you’ve returned home.
I had the chance to live abroad twice: first in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia (2 years), and then Warsaw, Poland (3 years). Two completely different places, both of which left their mark on me in ways I’m still unpacking.
And maybe the most unexpected gift of all? It’s where my writing life really began.
Blogging Was My Lifeline
When we first moved overseas, I started a blog—mostly to keep family and friends in the loop. I shared photos of our homes, stories about navigating the grocery store, what the kids were up to (yes, we did this with children), and all the beautiful, bizarre, and frustrating things (like watching the washing machine repairman read the manual for hours on end as he attempted to fix it) that come with starting over in a new country.
I had no idea at the time that writing those posts—often early in the morning at a favorite cafe with a cup of coffee (iced in Malaysia and hot in Poland)—would be the spark that lit a much bigger fire.
Blogging gave me more than a way to stay connected. It gave me a voice. A rhythm. A practice. It helped me make sense of everything I was experiencing. And it reminded me how much I love telling stories—not just the big sweeping ones, but the small, quiet moments that shape a life.
Living Abroad Changed Me (and My Writing)
Here’s what else I learned from life abroad—lessons that seeped into my writing in the best ways:
1. You Get Really Good at Being Uncomfortable (and That’s a Good Thing)
In KL, I showed up knowing no one, sweating through every outfit, and overwhelmed by…well, all of it. I was way out of my comfort zone. But once you’ve figured out how to navigate the grocery store and how to get out of the parking garage, you realize just how capable you really are.
That same grit shows up every time I stare down a blank page or try to untangle a messy scene. Writing and living abroad both require you to step into the unknown and trust that you’ll find your footing.
2. You Start to See Yourself (and Your Culture) Differently
Warsaw had a different pace and tone than what I was used to. People were more reserved. Systems worked differently. Expectations weren’t the same. And while I sometimes bristled at the unfamiliar, I also found myself reflecting more deeply on my own habits and values.
That ability to zoom out—to see multiple sides of a situation—has made my characters richer, more nuanced. It’s helped me write people who are layered, contradictory, and deeply human.
3. You Learn to Live With Less (and Realize It’s Enough)
Moving abroad often means leaving a lot behind—furniture, favorite snacks, routines you didn’t even realize you loved. In both countries, I lived more simply. Fewer clothes. Fewer choices. More appreciation.
Writing is the same. It’s easy to overcomplicate things. But the best scenes are often the ones with the fewest ingredients. Living abroad helped me write with more intention—and less fluff.
4. You Build Relationships That Run Deep
Some of the most meaningful friendships I’ve ever had began in those expat years. When you’re far from home, you connect fast and deeply. You find your people and hold them close.
That kind of emotional depth—the rawness of being known—shows up in the way I write relationships. Whether it’s romantic tension or a long-lost friendship, I’m always reaching for that undercurrent of connection I came to rely on so heavily overseas.
5. You Become More Observant, More Curious, More Open
Everything is new when you’re living abroad. Grocery stores become treasure hunts. Cafes are test kitchens. A walk through the neighborhood feels like a story unfolding. I learned to pay attention—to faces, to textures, to moods in a room.
Now, as a writer, that same curiosity helps me build scenes and settings that feel alive. I want readers to feel the heat of a Malaysian afternoon or the gray beauty of a Warsaw winter.
6. You Redefine “Home”
Here’s a truth I didn’t expect: once you’ve lived abroad, “home” stops being a single place.
Home becomes the sound of morning prayer calls in KL, the rhythm of trams in Warsaw, the way your favorite market vendor smiles when they see you. It becomes people, rituals, routines—and it’s always shifting.
And yes, sometimes that’s bittersweet. Because you’re always missing somewhere. But it also means you’re forever connected to more of the world. And when I write now, I try to bring that feeling with me. To create stories that feel like belonging—even when the characters are still searching.
I didn’t move abroad thinking it would make me a writer. I just wanted to stay connected, share a few stories, and process what I was living through. But that blog turned into a practice. That practice turned into a passion. And that passion turned into pages of fiction I never imagined I’d be brave enough to write.
Living abroad didn’t just change me. It gave me a new story to tell—and the courage to tell it.
If you’ve ever lived abroad—or even dreamed of it—I’d love to hear your story. And if you’re a writer wondering whether travel is “worth it”? I’ll say this: it will change more than your passport. It’ll change your perspective, your prose, and your heart.