More Than a Move
When life changes overlap with cultural transitions
When Michal and I moved to Portugal in 2023, it wasn’t just a new adventure and a cultural transition to a new country—it was also a notable life transition, particularly for me, as I left a busy full-time job to dive into more creative endeavours.
It was a planned, eagerly anticipated, positive change for both of us. But it was a big one, rocking every aspect of our lives. At first, it felt like a vacation as we explored our new city and navigated the many administrative steps of moving to a new country. For some time, I was so busy learning the practical elements of daily life in a new place, and discovering who I was without the structure and demands of “work,” that I didn’t pause to think much about the cultural aspects of living in a new country.
Before the move, I suppose I assumed culture was mostly a list of differences—those little things people often grumbled about in online forums: laundry hanging from balconies because most homes don’t have dryers, unpredictable bureaucracy, odd opening hours for businesses, and the inevitable challenges that come with a different language, different foods, and different history. I believed that as long as I could navigate those differences without too much frustration, I was doing just fine at adapting to our new home.
I don’t think that anymore.
I’ve learned we don’t leave our culture behind when we cross a border. We carry it with us—our assumptions, habits, and emotional rhythms. And we carry the life we were living before the move, too.
That’s why moving abroad is rarely just about the new country. It’s about how living in that country interacts with the version of you who’s arriving.
We’ve all heard of culture shock—the disorientation that happens when things don’t work the way they do “back home.” For example, having lived in North America for most of my life, I had come to expect customer service everywhere to revolve around speed and efficiency. And then I discovered that in Portugal, relationships—even in customer service—matter more (I wrote about this in a post in “The Journey” recently).
When Michal and I went to open a bank account, we were warned to block off the day, bring snacks, and maybe a good book. Still, we did not expect what we thought of as a simple transaction to take four separate visits—no single visit lasting long enough for snacks, but long enough to find out our banker’s hometown, his vacation plans, and his daughter’s favourite sport (it’s floor hockey, and she’s a goalie).
At the time, I saw the whole experience as inefficient, costing us and the bank way too much time. Now, I see it as cultural. The pace wasn’t about neglect or about showing us who the boss is; it was about connection. That was a big learning moment for me. It was also the start of a deeper dive into the learner’s mindset—catching ourselves before we judged new experiences against those from another place, where approaches and systems were rooted in different values and cultural practices.
We all carry an invisible lens that shapes how we see the world—what we consider polite or rude, fast or slow, good or bad, safe or risky, respectful or cold. That lens is reflecting the cultural norms we are accustomed to. (I suspect they are called norms precisely because they shape us to view the common and familiar as “normal”.)
But here’s something else I didn’t fully appreciate when we moved: adapting to a new culture is only part of the story. The other part is the myriad of other changes taking place at the same time.
Imagine this scenario:
A couple retires and moves abroad. From the outside, it’s a dream: new scenery, lower cost of living, more time for themselves. But underneath the excitement, they’re also leaving behind careers that gave them a sense of purpose, and perhaps identities that defined them, as well as routines that may have provided comfort. Even in their home country, retirement would have been a massive change. (Michal’s dad, as an example, went back to working a couple of times before he was actually ready to slow down and enjoy retirement.)
Add living in a not-so-familiar place, encountering a new language, trying to figure out unfamiliar processes to complete everyday tasks—even the eggs being in the “wrong” place in the grocery store… Suddenly, that’s a lot of change for someone who has just left their job and relocated, all happening at once. It can get overwhelming.
Or consider a student moving abroad for university. They’re away from family and friends, adjusting to adulthood, buying food and essentials, cooking for themselves—perhaps for the first time—while also navigating a new culture, different professors’ styles and expectations, and the demands of their academic program. Is the emotional rollercoaster all about the new country, the independence, or the overwhelm of both?
Several of the guests we’ve recently interviewed for the Relocurious podcast moved to a new country at the time as undergoing significant life transitions. It turns out that at times, those life transitions can be an even greater source of overwhelm than is navigating a new culture or struggling to pick up the basics of a new language.
Separating the cultural transition from the life transition can be hard—and when the two collide, even small things can quickly start to feel big. What’s more, when a couple or family moves together, everyone may find themselves experiencing the changes differently, which can bring unexpected emotions into relationships.
How can we prepare ourselves for the overwhelm of all that change?
Acknowledging the changes you may experience is a good place to start. Before the move, it may be helpful to reflect not just on what will change externally, but also internally. What roles or routines will you leave behind? What might you miss about who you were before? How have you, and those who are moving with you, handled big changes in the past?
Think about the people in your immediate circles. Chances are, you each tolerate ambiguity differently, and your attitudes towards big changes may vary. That’s why reflecting on how you have responded to uncertainty and change in the past can help you anticipate how you may experience the change that is coming up (even when you really long for it). Those insights can help you prepare better.
There are many free questionnaires and assessments online that you can take to check your “readiness for change.” I tried this one—it’s simple, and the personal reflections it prompts may prove even more meaningful than the “score” you receive at the end: Readiness for Change Questionnaire
Other ways to prepare are to learn about the culture of your destination—at least the basics—and reflect on how you tend to act in situations where things don’t pan out quite as you expect. After all, it’s your own responses to change that are going to have the biggest influence on your experience of moving abroad.
Ask yourself:
What values shape how I see the world? For example, do I value independence over community, efficiency over relationships, familiar over stimulating?
How do I interpret unfamiliar behaviours, such as spitting in the streets, direct or gruff-sounding communication, or kissing as a greeting—do I judge it, fear it, or get curious?
These questions begin to explore your cultural biases and coping tendencies, and can prepare you to adapt without overwhelm or panic. This is known as Cultural Intelligence (CQ).
What is Cultural Intelligence, and how can it help you?
Cultural Intelligence is your ability to function effectively across cultural contexts. It goes beyond learning how to say “thank you” in another language—it’s understanding how your own culture shapes your expectations, as well as learning how to adjust those expectations in a new environment. Yes, it takes being open to it, too.
Of course, there’s an assessment tool for Cultural Intelligence you can take to understand your own CQ score. Again, I believe the act of reflecting on the questions is at least as valuable as the “score” the tool assigns. Like most things in life, your Cultural Intelligence is not a fixed value—it evolves with experience, which means you can work on it and enhance it. That’s the awesome part!
Without CQ, it’s easy to misread difference as dysfunction, or as something being “wrong”. Often, it’s not the difference itself (in values, expectations, ways people act) but how you perceive that difference that creates additional barriers when navigating a new culture—especially if you are already in the midst of a major life change.
Big transitions come with grief, even when you’re “living the dream.”
In this context, grief can look like:
Missing who you were in your old life, and not yet knowing who you are in your new life.
Resisting new routines that feel clumsy or slow or not “normal” (remember norms?).
Feeling embarrassed or confused about simple tasks in the new context.
These feelings are not failure. Transitioning into your new ways of living can be slow, and it's okay for it to feel awkward. (And a time will come when you get to laugh about it all—and have fun stories to tell friends!)
When everything is changing, people need constants.
When you move to a new country, you bring your culture, values, and interests with you. You don’t simply leave them at the customs kiosk.
Practicing familiar rituals, having a stash of your favourite books (or foods), or bringing your hobbies with you can become emotional lifelines in the early months. Things as simple as listening to a playlist of familiar music, going for walks in nature, or scheduling Sunday calls with friends or family, can go a long way towards creating emotional stability during times of significant change.
Whether you're a retiree, a student, or somewhere in between, building a social community in your new country is key—though not all social connections will feel meaningful right away. When Michal and I moved to Porto, we were meeting various people who had also moved to Porto. Having that in common was enough for a bit of small talk and some tips for navigating life in the city, but it wasn’t enough to form close connections. In time, we joined groups focused on our interests—photography, writing, and education. That was where the connections began to happen, when we were surrounded by people who shared our passions. It was an important step towards feeling more “at home” as we found our way in a new culture, and a new phase of life.
Final Thoughts
Moving abroad isn’t just one transition—it’s often many at once; a new job, new chapter of life, a shift in identity. And when those changes overlap with cultural adjustment, it’s no wonder we sometimes feel overwhelmed.
But if we slow down, stay curious, and reflect on what’s really happening beneath the surface, inside ourselves, we gain more than a new address—we grow into a new perspective.
Thanks for reading,
Kathy
P.S. We'd love to hear your story. Are you navigating a double transition—life and location? Let me know in the comments, or hit reply.
List of links and tools from this post:
✅ Take a Readiness for Change Assessment
✅ Take a Cultural Intelligence Self-Assessment
✅ Compare countries on cultural values like power distance, individualism, and time orientation using Hofstede Insights
Great essay!