Expat Life Isn’t A New Thing. You’re Just Able to See It Now.
What’s happening now isn’t a trend, it’s a return to what’s always been possible.
Personal note from Sonaya.
Hi friend,
Living abroad might feel like a bold, modern decision, one fueled by remote work, social media, and Zoom calls across time zones.
But here’s the truth:
The expat life is not new. People have been doing this for centuries.
Whether it was for trade, education, diplomacy, military service, or a better life, people have always moved across borders in search of something more. What’s different now is… we get to see it in real time.
We’re watching families in Portugal post their beach mornings.
We’re seeing digital nomads in Mexico City share their office views.
We’re reading Substack notes from women in Ghana, Bali, Doha, Lisbon.
But the core truth remains the same:
You are not crazy for wanting something different.
You are part of a long tradition of people who did.
So What’s an Expat—Really?
Here’s a quick breakdown that might help:
Expat (expatriate): Someone who lives outside their native country, temporarily or permanently, without taking on full legal citizenship.
Immigrant: Someone who moves to another country intending to settle long-term, often seeking permanent residency or citizenship (naturalization).
When someone moves abroad and eventually applies for citizenship, they’re no longer considered an expat; they’ve transitioned into immigrant status.
It’s not about status, it’s about intention.
Many of the people I meet in Doha have either just arrived… or they’ve been here for 10+ years.
Some are still “expats.”
Others have decided this is home and built their lives accordingly.
And what’s the worst that can happen?
You go. You don’t love it. You come back.
That’s not failure. That’s clarity.
What Do You Think?
Have you ever held yourself back because the idea of leaving felt “too big”?
Or felt like you’d be the first to do something this different?
→ Comment below and tell me what’s holding you back or what made you finally move.
I’d love to feature some responses in next week’s note.
You’re not doing anything new.
You’re doing something timeless and finally claiming it for yourself.
This Week’s Resources
🎧 On the Podcast:
📖 From the Blog:
Resources to Get You Moving
Beyond Borders
A 3-week email course to help you start your expat journey with clarity and confidence.
The Freedom Model Masterclass
The Revenue Strategy That Helps You Earn Consistently Without Working More Hours
A No Cost 60-minute session to help you discover the business model that fits your goals, lifestyle, and energy, so you can grow your income without burning out or building a big team.
Keep dreaming. Keep planning.
We’re here to walk with you, step by step.
With love from Doha,
Sonaya
Founder, Your Expat Life
I’ve been living the expat life since Feb 2012. It was a childhood dream of mine that I worked hard to make a reality.
I consider myself flexible enough to adapt to each city I've lived in. Now on my 5th move, here in South Africa, I had my Excel file with a to-do list that took a whole lot more time to complete than I expected! But honestly, I enjoyed it knowing it was all part of the adventure.
Learning the language, making friends, discovering the food, figuring out the health system, and dealing with insurance (my personal nightmare!) are all big challenges. My advice is to remember that while we face many struggles at the beginning, they shape your resilience and help you know your limits.
Being away from your culture for so long isn't easy, but coming back with all you've experienced wouldn't be simple either. So, my philosophy is to just enjoy the moment and look forward to what's coming next! ;)
A note for clarity. Under U.S. law alone, obtaining citizenship in a foreign country does not require you to surrender your U.S. citizenship. You can still vote in U.S. elections. You still have to submit tax returns until you die or renounce your U.S. citizenship. Foreign banks are still compelled to submit your account details to the U.S.
My family has been here for 18 years now. We are still American. But, we are also now British.
Why did I become an expat? My partner was offered and could not refuse a very prestigious position at the University of Cambridge. I followed. Besides the imperative of my partner's great, new job, I left because of a change in direction in my last U.S. post. The internationalism that drove my program was fading. Working out of country wasn't new for me or my partner. We both worked in international programs. Holidays grew into short trips that grew into extended stays, which demonstrated that working abroad was viable.
I work in a very niche occupation. Job searches, years before leaving, suggested that finding a work here would not be easy. We planned that, if we ever did move, I would continue seeking work with U.S. government agencies and NGOs that I had been working with Stateside. After moving, other than living in the U.K., my work-life hadn't changed that much. I was still in my niche. It still took me to other countries.
For my partner, moving was a matter of finding a more prestigious position. For me, in a way, it was moving closer to work.
To be clear, my partner's job offer came with a work visa. I came as a member of family, a dependent of a work visa holder. Based on the experience of colleagues who stayed behind when their partner took an overseas post, we decided that it would be more difficult for me to enter later had I stayed in my U.S. post. I risked professional stature in leaving my U.S. post; but, I could work in the U.K. under a 'dependent's visa'. It was just a mater of time until the right job for me came along. In the mean time, I would have to be more creative in finding work outside of my academic-adjacent field. Finding a great job in my niche at the University of London eased things.
One worry kept popping up during those early years. It was voiced by British colleagues: Would we get beyond the difference between here and there? Beyond separation from extended family? Too many Americans, they said, left prematurely when measured against both the British and the American expectations. As the thought of moving entered our minds, well before it began to seem viable, we began plotting out what we liked and didn't like about there and other countries we might come to, about our aspirations too. We were brutally honest with ourselves. And, we kept testing our expectations.
Why did I become an immigrant? and a dual national? Those vague expat years confirmed that there was nothing that I disliked so much that I wanted to leave. Then the considerations shifted. It seems crass to think that I made them economic. But, we moved for economic and aspirational reasons; so, why not.
-- Did I really want to continue paying every so many years to renew my Right to Remain? And, how long did I hope to stay here anyway? (In less than a decade, I would pay as much to continue remaining as becoming a citizen.) Were my taxes any higher here than there? (They weren't. As a percentage of income; they were the same.) Did I want to vote in more than local elections here? (Yes, I wanted to vote for the people governing my daily life.) Would my health-care cost be more or less here or there? (They would be a lot greater in the U.S. And, health insurance would be an ongoing cost there, but not here.) Where would housing costs leave me better off? (With home ownership, better here.) Will I be able to get U.S. funds to the U.K. if I stayed? (Retaining funds in the U.S. has proved an issue for me. But, the only issue in retirement is will the value of funds keep us going? (The jury is out. One Prime Minister here nearly crashed the financial system. One President's actions there could crash the financial system there. I suppose, that one is a draw.)
What makes us American? British?
I was at university when I made my first extended trip abroad. My mother openly worried that I might never return. My father described Cincinnati as Home in the way that one speaks of "One True God". Religiously.
Truth is, I've never felt very American, not the patriot, a flag-waver. I probably don't feel very British either; we certainly don't tend to waive the flag. But the truth, for me, first came when I took an extended assignment in Botswana. One day, in the University's food court, a colleague bought me a traditional lunch. It looked like nothing I'd ever seen; but it had the taste of my mother's cooking. In Botswana, I expected to feel the otherness. There was certainly otherness. Unexpectedly, I felt myself being adopted; and, I was connected. I belonged to both here and there.