Moving Abroad Changed My Life: How I Went From Survival to Self-Romance
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Burned out and stuck in survival mode, I knew moving abroad would help me start over, and it changed everything. This is the story of how slow, intentional living helped me heal from emotional exhaustion and fall back in love with my life. I’m also sharing 3 daily rituals I practice, plus a free printable with 10 self-romance rituals to help you reclaim beauty, presence, and joy wherever you are.
I didn’t move abroad for adventure. I moved because I didn’t know who I was anymore. Spain didn’t save me, but it gave me space to rebuild from survival mode to self-romance.
The Beginning Of Change Is Usually Painful
A warm evening in July 2024 had me standing in the doorway of my son’s empty bedroom. I had just returned home from the airport in Augusta, Maine, after having dropped my son off in California to live with his father and grandparents.
I stood in that doorway staring at an empty room, and my sobs echoed off the bare walls as I realized I was now an empty nester and life would never be the same again.
For seventeen years, my kiddo had been my sidekick. I couldn’t remember life before him. Remember what it was like to not move through life for two people. But here I stood, wondering where the years had gone.
I guess you could say this is a “love letter” to new empty nesters, but also to those starting out on a new journey in life, much later then you could have ever planned for. The good news is, you’re not late. You’re right on time. If you’ve ever wondered how to romanticize your life after surviving a hard season, I hope this gives you permission to begin.
I Didn’t Move To Start Over. I Moved Because I Needed To Wake Up
Back home, I was an exhausted, single mom. If I’m honest, I was a single mom even before my divorce. Sometimes, it’s just easier to go it alone. But parenthood is tough stuff when you’re on your own.
You have to be both parents, try not to let the anger of divorce bleed through to your child, somehow take everything in stride no matter what goes wrong, and live on hope and a lot of prayer and meditation. If I’m being honest, I have no idea how I got through the last seventeen years, but I did.
Moving abroad for healing sounds so cliche, but that’s what I had to do. I wasn’t running away, I was reaching for something that felt like me after decades of living for everyone else. An eight-year marriage that was doomed from the first year, burnout from being the sole caretaker to a dying mother for a year and a half, trying to maintain friendships, a household, home school my child, and run a business… I guess you could say physical and emotional burnout was putting it mildly.
The truth is, there was nothing of me left. I had been a people-pleaser for the better part of my life up until that moment, and learning to do things differently was not going to be easy. My move was a catalyst, not a solution. I needed to change myself inside and out.
Grief Doesn’t Respect Geography
Once I got to Spain, it took me a long while to get over the stress of the move. But what I hadn’t planned on was that my grief would be tagging along for the ride. Add to that the culture shock, the silence you experience as a solo traveler who doesn’t know a single soul, and failing at the simplest of things like turning on a light, or running a foreign washing machine, and it all feels like a giant mess.
Holding all of that together like glue was the homesickness I felt for my child and my old identity as a mom. Yes, I know I’ll always be his mom, but once they move out, it all changes.
At first, I felt like an afterthought. It felt like he just forgot about me and was living happily without me, which only added to my grief.
Of course, it wasn’t true, and all of those feelings were normal. Grief is part of the healing process. Romanticizing your life doesn’t mean bypassing the pain. It means letting beauty and grief sit at the same table and share a meal.
3 Rituals That Brought Me Back To Myself
I first want to say that, I’m by no means, on the other side of this. On the contrary, I’m smack in the middle of it all. But can we ever really be in any other place?
I didn’t change my life overnight. Few people can. Instead, I began noticing tiny things, the everyday beauty, that made me feel again. I’m not living some sort of magical soft life, but I’m definitely living life on my own terms for the first time ever.
The fact is, you have no idea how numb you have become to the world around you until you can really slow down enough to start to notice it again. I had detached so heavily because of the drudgery of survival mode, that connecting to a life outside of my little bubble was, and still is, an ongoing process.
So what helped me find life after survival mode? Routine! When you are so out of touch with life, routine becomes your touchstone when you try to reconnect. These are the three things that really helped me.
1. My Morning Coffee Became Sacred
I’ve always loved coffee. But it was never a ritual until I came to Spain. In the States, I would guzzle down a Dunkin’ by the quart. Now I sip from much smaller cups and enjoy it so much more.
Sitting on my balcony, sipping that morning cup of life juice, watching the waves roll in and out, was the first thing that started to bring me back to myself. At first, I noticed the feeling of the cup between my palms. Then I noticed how the warm coffee felt going down my throat, and finally, how it warmed my belly. These were the first feelings I had that reminded me I have a body. It sounds strange, but when you always put yourself at the bottom of the list (if you’re lucky to be on the list at all), noticing those little things becomes a sacred process.
If you are in the same boat, start with one sacred ritual a day. Even if it’s just tea in your favorite chair. The trick is, you have to make it sacred. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, can get in the way of you and whatever small routine you set for yourself. But above all else, make it a sensual experience. Tactile in nature. Something you can touch, smell, taste, and even hear. Something that involves as many of your senses as possible.
2. Beauty As A Daily Assignment
I’m not talking about spending hours in front of the mirror (unless that works for you, then by all means, have at it!). I’m talking about noticing beautiful moments, wearing perfume for no one but yourself, enjoying a cool breeze on a hot day, and basically reminding yourself that life happens in the little moments. Then, write down 3 things that made you feel softness or awe. Yes, every day. That list adds up fast, and you begin to see that your life is a series of beautiful moments.
3. Creating A Life Worth Coming Home To
Even in furnished apartments, I find small ways to make the space mine. Whether that means lighting a candle while I eat dinner, or playing a favorite playlist while I take a warm, slow shower. You have to make home a place worth being. Doing this stabilized me in so many ways.
Moving to Spain wasn’t some luxury escape. It was my lifeline. In the slowness, I have found my pace. In the coffee culture that is so rich in this country, I learned the art of slowing down to savor something. And in being alone, I learned to notice myself again. Something I hadn’t done since I was a teen. The move didn’t heal me, but it removed the noise so I could heal.
You Don’t Have To Move To Heal, But I Did Both
Did I have to move to Spain to do all of this? I could make an argument for either answer. But the fact is, you don’t have to leave the country to reclaim yourself. Healing through travel is simply the road I chose for me. If you’re still in survival mode, I see you. Start with one moment. One breath. One step. That’s how it begins.
Moving abroad wasn’t a fresh start, it was a mirror. Spain didn’t heal me. It gave me the stillness, slowness, and solitude I needed to finally see myself again.
The world will be healed by women who chose softness, beauty, and presence, even in chaos.
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