Reflections: A Decade of Expat Life

This December marks 10 years since I first moved to the United States, and it feels surreal to think about how far I’ve come. I decided to write this blog to share my expat journey, not only as a reflection of my own experiences but also as a resource for anyone who’s considering a similar path.

I moved to the US when I was 25—one of the few milestones in my life that didn’t get delayed (haha). My journey began in a small town in Rhode Island, the tiniest state in the country. I was consulting as an IT professional for my company’s largest client, which meant we came in strong numbers each year, fostering a sense of closeness with both friends and our work family. I liked starting small—it gave me the comfort I needed to settle in and understand the basics of life in a new country. We spent time at dive bars, went on road trips around the Northeast, and yes, learned to cook (a huge win!). There were many “firsts” during those years—living with a housemate, celebrating holidays with friends, building special bonds with my girlfriends, cooking my first proper meal, and hosting friends at my place.

In the beginning, the excitement of this new life—becoming financially independent, living away from home for the first time, and traveling—helped ease the yearning for family. But as time went on, there were inevitable moments of homesickness. Birthdays, festivals, and significant life events became triggers for tears. And as much as I tried to embrace my new life, the realization that this choice would leave a permanent hole in my heart set in. Growing up in a large family made the quiet of a nuclear life feel a bit too lonely at times. As I settled further into my life here, I discovered a new passion: traveling. This slowly became one of the most important aspects of my life, fueling my desire to explore the world. It was time for a change, and I moved to Massachusetts for a new job.

Here’s what made me want to settle down in this country – Things like fresh air, good infrastructure, work-life balance, drive-thru coffee (wink) became the new normal. The financial stability, the lack of pollution, the work-life balance, and less traffic were all major bonuses. But the true game-changer was the freedom I found as a woman. I could drive alone at any hour of the day (or night), wear whatever I wanted without fear of judgment, make my own choices without worrying about anyone else’s expectations, and live the life of equality I envisioned. While every country has its own set of challenges—like the healthcare system, gun policy, illegal immigration, and the dependence on cars in the US—none of these have outweighed the sense of personal freedom I feel here. Every country has its flaws, and I’ve learned to appreciate that no place is perfect.

I married my best friend, and together, we built a life for ourselves. Our friends here became our family, and before long, we were spending weekends, holidays, and vacations together. When I transitioned to a full-time role, we began working toward our version of the “American Dream”—buying a house in the suburbs, close enough to a big city for weekend visits. By 32, we achieved that dream. Looking back, I feel immense gratitude for all the opportunities, the people, and the universe for making this life possible. Yet, the feeling of being an outsider persisted. By then, I hoped to immerse myself in the community and truly feel at home. But instead, I realized I didn’t seem to fit in, either here or in my home country. I could choose to see this as a positive, continuing my search for a place that feels like home. Alternatively, I could accept that maybe this feeling is not meant to be a part of my life. Or, I could choose to feel miserable and lost—but that’s not an option for me. So, I look forward to finding a city, state, or country that will eventually feel like home.

Another challenge was adjusting to suburban life. I was born and raised in Delhi, and while I once craved quiet and solitude, the city girl in me felt more at home in the bustling cities of the US. Living in a city isn’t impossible, but it’s not always practical—smaller apartments, traffic, and safety concerns are factors to consider. In contrast, my quiet suburb may feel empty at times, but it offers me the chance to live in a beautiful, spacious home I can afford, with the freedom to drive wherever and whenever I want. Perhaps someday, I’ll move closer to the city.

The longer we stay away from our home country and grow accustomed to life in a developed country, the harder it becomes to return. We may drift from some friends and family, but those closest to us remain. My sister has always been my greatest love, and surprisingly, the distance has brought me closer to my mother. I craved her attention and cherished every conversation. She eventually began visiting for longer periods, and her presence made our house feel like home. I’ve also developed a similar bond with my in-laws and having them around has brought us much happiness.  While we understand that people come and go, moving thousands of miles away has only amplified the number of people who enter and exit our lives. However, those who are meant to stay will, and I’m truly grateful for them. I’ve also tried to become comfortable with my own company. Solo trips were a dream I never quite realized, but while I enjoy moments of solitude, I’m a people person at heart. In your early thirties, as insecurities and stubbornness fade, you begin to embrace who you truly are. This search for self becomes more intense as you shed the need for external validation.

Everything is not rosy as you may have guessed. Doing our own chores until we can afford help (labor is expensive), adjusting to extreme weather (I still can’t stand the long winters), and settling in the suburbs (after all, I’m a Delhi girl) – all of this takes time getting used to.

When the pandemic hit, I eventually appreciated the ability to live my life freely. I worked remotely, took up hiking, and continued connecting with my close-knit group of friends for staycations and get-togethers. But I felt helpless when I could no longer visit my family at will. The heightened anxiety was one of the hardest challenges I’ve faced, but it became one of the most important lessons of my life. Surrender became my mantra. When there’s nothing you can do, leave it to the higher powers. Yes, I was going through life happily on the outside, yet inside, I was grieving and losing sleep over my family. Such is life—there’s a lot more gray than we like to admit.

In the context of choosing to settle down over here in the US, I am grateful I had a choice. I wasn’t financially bound to stay here, nor was I pressured by my family to stay in India. I chose this life, and that choice means a lot to me. I explored my options and fulfilled my dream of pursuing a master’s degree in a field I loved. In school, my courses were often chosen by my family based on what they thought would help me thrive in my career. While I respect that, my high school and engineering years were tough, as I had little interest in science and technology (as many can relate 😊). I eventually found my passion in the functional side of IT, and I’m glad to be part of this field. I appreciate the perks of working in an air-conditioned office or remotely, with the flexibility to travel and visit home as often as possible. Though life would be different elsewhere, being surrounded by familiar faces (other Indians) is comforting, and I’m grateful for the good people I’ve met in all areas of my life.

Looking back, I’m glad I moved here at the right time—to experience the late twenties party scene, new adventures, and financial stability in my early thirties. Now, as I approach my mid-thirties, I realize every bit of hard work toward this journey has been worth it. There’s always more to achieve, but for me, life is all about balance. Whether it’s balancing money between savings, material things, travel, and charity, or managing my emotions between family, friends, and work, balance is key. Money is practical, but understanding and controlling emotions is part of my spiritual journey. I’ve always been drawn to the higher powers, and much of my work has been about freeing myself from toxic emotions that no longer serve me. Over the years, I’ve learned to compartmentalize what matters most and appreciate the good around me. This sense of security comes with experience and letting go of expectations. As I age, I feel lighter, calmer, and closer to the person I aspire to be. The answer lies in balance—between having goals and being flexible, between setting boundaries and letting go when things don’t go as planned. To end, I’ll leave you with my favorite quote by Cheryl Strayed: “How wild it was, to let it be…”