The first year is not what you imagined. It's better in some ways and harder in others, and the ways it's hard are rarely the ones you worried about in advance.
We've been living abroad — mostly on a boat, sometimes on land — for going on seven years now. We've talked to hundreds of families at various stages of the same journey. The first year follows a pattern, and knowing the pattern in advance makes it more bearable.
The first few months: the high
The first two or three months are genuinely exhilarating. Everything is new. The food is different, the streets are different, the rhythms of the day are different. You feel alive in a way that's hard to explain to people who haven't done it. The kids adapt faster than you expected. You have dinner at 9pm and think: we actually did it.
This phase is real, but it's also partly adrenaline. You're still in the headspace of the move. The novelty is carrying you. Enjoy it.
Around month four: the dip
Almost every family we talk to hits a wall somewhere between month three and six. The novelty has worn off. The logistics that felt exciting now feel grinding. You still don't really know how anything works — where to get the thing you need, who to call when something breaks, how the bureaucracy functions. Your social network at home is living a normal life and you've slowly stopped being able to relate to most of the conversations.
This is the homesickness that people don't warn you about, because it's not really homesickness for a place — it's homesickness for competence. You knew how to operate your old life. You don't fully know how to operate this one yet.
Emily hit this around month four in Portugal. She'd been the one who wanted to move most. She spent two weeks wondering if we'd made a catastrophic mistake. She didn't tell me at first because she felt like she wasn't allowed to feel that after championing the move for so long.
We talk about this a lot now, because it's almost universal and almost no one expects it.
The building phase: months six to nine
This is where it starts to click. You have a local doctor. You know where the good market is. You've met a few people you genuinely like. The kids have found their feet at school or in their activities. You've figured out the bureaucracy — at least enough to function.
This phase is quieter than the first. Less dramatic. It doesn't make a good story because what's happening is just: normal life, slowly, in a new place. That ordinariness is actually the goal. It means you're not a tourist anymore.
The reflection: month twelve
A year in, most families go through a period of stock-taking. You ask yourself whether this is working. Sometimes the answer is yes, clearly. Sometimes it's more complicated. Sometimes you realise the place was a mistake and you need to move again. Sometimes you realise the place is fine but you need to adjust how you're living in it.
The important thing to know is that whatever you're feeling at the twelve-month mark is not the final verdict. The year one version of expat life is not what year three looks like. You're still learning how to do this.
The things that make the hard parts easier
A community — even a small one. Other families doing something similar, local people who adopt you, online groups that provide belonging when the physical community isn't there yet. Isolation is the thing that turns hard into unbearable. Invest in finding your people earlier than feels necessary.
A shared language with your partner about how you're both doing. Not the performative "this is great!" version, but the real one. How are you actually finding it? What's hard? What do you miss? Couples who don't have this conversation diverge — one person suffers quietly while the other assumes everything is fine.
A plan for bad days that doesn't involve going home. We had a rule: if we had a bad week, we talked about what would fix the week. If we had a bad month, we talked about what would fix the month. We didn't let short-term hard lead to short-term decisions. Most of the things that felt terrible at three months felt manageable at six.
What I want families to know
The first year is hard in ways you don't anticipate. That's not a reason not to do it. It's just information.
The families we know who are most glad they made the move are also, without exception, the ones who had the hardest first year. The difficulty isn't a sign that you got it wrong. It's a sign that you're doing something real.
If you're in the thick of it and want to talk to someone who has been through it, book a call. Sometimes that's all you need.
