The Madness of Moving On

There’s a special feeling reserved for moments when you just arrived in a new place. Somewhere you know nothing, nobody, and where just a moment ago it felt like you were at home, surrounded by people you know and a world that feels so familiar.

Moving to a new place, a new city, a new country - it’s destabilizing.

For some of us, we do it for work, following a spouse, or maybe we’re fleeing something. Perhaps we’re looking for a better life - if not for us, then for our children.

Whatever the reason may be, the first feeling is the same - it’s lonely.

You don’t know anyone or anything, and every moment feels like you need to spend all your energy just taking everything in, learning where things are, how they work, and hoping you figure it out soon.

The shop you knew had good vegetables - gone.

The friends you could call to have a coffee on a saturday afternoon - gone.

The gym, the bar, whatever you were used to doing in your past life - gone.

It’s all somewhere far away, somewhere you used to call home.

For some reason, I decided to put myself through this voluntarily.

Just a few months ago, I left my family and friends to go to Buenos Aires - a place where I knew nothing and nobody, but where my heart was screaming I should go to.

My first day, I was scared.

I spoke some of the language, but I didn’t know if the place was dangerous or who I could trust, and understanding what people were saying in this new accent and fast way of talking - forget it.

My first few days were spent walking around by myself wondering what the hell I was doing there.

I felt the anxiousness of being in an unfamiliar place.

I felt the stress of saying things wrong whenever I tried to speak to anyone.

“What if they don’t understand me?”

“What if they think I’m a foreigner and treat me differently?”

All these thoughts were going through my head constantly.

I hated the feeling of standing out, of looking different, of being someone that doesn’t belong.

Yet, within a few weeks, I had my first few friends.

By Christmas, one month in, I was welcoming two dozen people for an asado (barbecue) at my house.

By the time I left Argentina after 3 months, I had almost 40 people coming to my house, all of them making new friends, having fun, and leaving with good memories.

When you build a network of people, and you learn to know how things work in a certain place, you can’t help but feel attached to the place.

The work you put in to discover the language, the culture, the people - it leaves a mark on your soul and becomes a part of you.

Similarly, the sweat you put into making it happen, it makes you a part of that place as well.

The people you connected, the memories you made - the place is now (hopefully) better as a result of you being there.

Packing up my bags and heading to the airport after 3 months in Buenos Aires felt almost ridiculous.

Why was I leaving behind all the time and energy I invested?

After all, I went there to learn Argentine Spanish and see how quickly I could pass for a native speaker, and I had done it! Several times!

Wouldn’t it make sense for me to stay there and reap the rewards?

To build stronger friendships with all the people I met, apply the skills I learned and all the knowledge I had gained?

I was just starting to get on an exponential curve where I was learning SO much faster, feeling SO much more comfortable, and I finally felt like I belonged.

Two friends came to visit, and I could show them around effortlessly, talking to locals like I was one of them, and it just felt so easy.

Yet here I was, getting on a plane to leave this city, this country, to go somewhere I had never been and where I felt totally uncomfortable speaking the language.

Am I crazy?

Probably, but that’s what I had signed up for.

I had given myself the mission to stay 3 months in Argentina and completely master Argentine Spanish (or at least get as fluent, confident & natural as humanly possible in 3 months - a.k.a. not perfect, but excellent)

And the next mission was to do the same in Brazil, starting from a much much lower level of Portuguese in a place where people can tell from a mile away that I’m a foreigner.

Why?

Because I know that people all around the world are leaving their homes, the places they feel comfortable in, to go live somewhere they know nothing about.

Because I know there are millions of people who feel just like me - isolated, lonely, disconnected, and suddenly feeling so small & stupid in this new language.

“If only you knew how smart and confident I am in my native language!”

“We would have really interesting conversations!”

“I’m really funny and charismatic in my mother tongue, I promise!”

Yet here I am, feeling like a mouse, a hamster in this new place, when just a few days ago I was a lion who walked through the streets handling conversations like I was born to do just that.

So why am I doing this?

Because I know I will succeed.

I know I will soon be reading this very text, laughing at how uncomfortable I felt - how scared and small I felt - how simple things like walking down the street felt scary, and every word & conversation took all the energy I could muster for the day.

I know I’ll succeed.

I’ve done it before.

At least 4 or 5 times, in German, in Polish, in Korean, in Spanish, etc...

I have a plan.

I have a system.

I have a reason to make it happen.

And I know that if I can put myself through it, showing each step along the way, then someday somewhere, someone will believe it’s possible for them too.

And they will succeed.

They too will feel at home, like they belong.

Someday, somewhere, someone will leave their home country to live and work somewhere with a new language and culture.

That person will arrive knowing that soon, they too will be a part of that place.

They’ll feel comfortable. They’ll feel like themselves in their new language.

People will talk to them like they belong in that place.

They will be themselves again.

Only they won’t really ever be the same again.

Because they will have grown into a new version of themselves.

They will have learned to speak the language like the locals - they will have learned to make jokes and sing songs like the locals.

They will have become a local - and that’s why they won’t be themselves ever again.

Because they will have expanded into a greater self.

And I think that’s beautiful.

And it's fun!

“If only you knew how smart and confident I am in my native language!”

Frankly, I’m tired of moving around so much.

I’m looking forward to settling down a bit more - to building a routine, good habits, and living out of more than just a suitcase.

But I know there are people who feel as lonely and lost as I do right now, and they don’t know how to get out of it.

They don’t know how to speak and sound like they are part of the place.

They don’t know how to get back that feeling of speaking as comfortably as in their native language.

They don’t know how to stop feeling small - like a lesser version of themselves.

So I’m doing it again for them.

God help me make sure I document it well, this time.

Help me show them, so that they might also skip the years of pain and loneliness.

So that they too can skip to the good part.

The part where they feel like home.

The fun part.

20/2/2025 - Rio de Janeiro, Brazil