“So how’s the move going?” … (pause) … “It’s great!”
It’s not a lie … But is it the whole truth?
When we take a big step into the unknown — change jobs, become a parent, move to a new country — it can be tempting to share only the highlights. Especially when we have told ourselves (and others) that the step we are taking is a dream come true. When the cracks start to show (and some almost inevitably will), we might not want to admit that we are struggling. Not to be dishonest, but to uphold the image we have painted of our new life, role, or place.
I bet we all do this to some extent, especially during life transitions. We curate the words and images for the story we tell in conversations and on social media about our new life, in order to shape how others see us. Psychologists call it self-presentation: We take small actions to align the story we tell (the reality as we present it) to match the dream that we had painted. We want the people who cheered us on to feel like their support wasn’t misplaced. We don’t want our family and friends to be disappointed or feel worried. And we like to comfort ourselves by playing down the eminence of those aspects of our experience that did not pan out as planned or expected.
Whether we had omitted a relevant detail in our planning, or the circumstances have simply changed, many of us seek social validation by gently ‘massaging’ the story we tell. Doing so simply helps us present the steps we had taken as being the right ones, and ourselves as being right to take them. So when aspects of the move start to feel a little bit like failures or setbacks, we may unconsciously highlight our resilience, independence, or adventurousness in the retelling.
And it’s not just about convincing others that we are fine and that we have things under control, it is also about self-affirmation: the urge to reinforce to ourselves that we are still living our values, that the choices we are making are reasonable, and that we are capable of looking after ourselves, even if things didn’t go as planned. (And if we do mention the occasional mishap in a conversation, we may be tempted to commit what is called the fundamental attribution error: pointing out adverse circumstances beyond our control, and downplaying our own actions that may have contributed to our less-than-perfect new reality.)
A question to consider: When you catch yourself highlighting only the positive outcomes of your actions, may it be because you are not yet sure yourself how things may turn out, and whether you can achieve the results you wish? Again, you may not be the only person who experiences that — and it may simply feel safer and more caring to focus on the positive. (You may also find that those receiving the message find it easier, safer, and more caring not to prompt further until later.) Compassion, including self-compassion, is an important force that can help us overcome the unexpected and hard times in our lives by treading lightly and giving ourselves grace.
That said, there is a limit to which our focus on peace and safety will serve us and those around us well. The risk of curating our lives too tightly is in getting cut off from real connection. The misalignment between how we feel and what we say can leave us lonely, ashamed, and gloomy. We experience that internal tension, known as cognitive dissonance, as growing discomfort anytime our inner truth doesn’t line up with the version of our life we are telling the world. If that tension is left unresolved for a long time, people who know us well may eventually reach a point where they no longer know how to relate to us and our new (and gradually less believable) story. Reaching out to us to offer help may become harder as well, if we close off, hide, and push back too hard or for too long.
In our latest Relocurious podcast episode, Cressida shared what it was like to move to Hong Kong with her husband and their three-month-old baby. From the outside, it looked like a bold leap and an exciting new life chapter. But behind the scenes, there was sleep deprivation, urban overload, and isolation. Depression even. And still, she told everyone she was doing fine. And she did it with a smile.
Many of us do this. We protect ourselves by performing positivity. However, the cost of “faking it” — pretending to be doing better than we actually are — is high. Thankfully, as we heard in Cressida’s story, there is a way out. She started taking steps towards living with authenticity – being more honest and truthful with herself and others. Theories of authenticity and self-determination tell us that well-being is rooted in autonomy, connection, and congruence. When we feel like our life reflects who we truly are, we thrive. Cressida was not doing well, but she also didn’t have to fix everything overnight. She just needed to prioritize her well-being over telling happy stories, and start making choices that supported her sense of self.
You may remember Cressida’s simple, powerful advice: “Reach out to one person each day. Even if it’s just to say Hello.” Doing so serves as emotion regulation. Research shows that when we share difficult feelings with others, we are helping ourselves manage stress and feel seen. Cressida’s turning point was the moment she let herself be vulnerable, and asked for help.
While every relocation has its nuances, moving to a new country often starts with the thrill of arrival, followed by the shock of disorientation, and then there is the gradual adjustment. Transition theory suggests that how we experience change may depend on factors ranging from our readiness and resourcefulness to the support offered by the people around us, to the strategies we adopt. Those strategies can be as simple as connecting with a friend by a daily text, trying a new walking route, popping into a corner café that feels like yours. Just remember that any strategy is only as good as the actions it inspires. Actions we actually take.
What is starting to emerge from the conversations with our podcast guests is that there is much more to moving than packing up and getting on a flight. Relocation is a life transition along an arc that is full of contemplating, experiencing, reflecting, reimagining, and recalibrating. The goal is not to prove to anyone (including yourself) that your decision was right. The goal is to live fully. Expect the unexpected, honour what’s hard, learn, adjust, and celebrate your little victories — and the new you.
And next time someone asks, “How’s it going?,” consider telling a little more of the real story. It might become the beginning of a deeper conversation, an opening to asking for and accepting help, and a stronger personal connection.
Consider:
Where in your life are you performing a version of “everything’s fine”?
What would it look like to reach out, even briefly, today?
How might you, and the people in your life, enjoy a more authentic you?