New Moon Coaching for Expat Women

“Do you really live in Colorado? Lucky you!”

This is the standard reaction when people find out I live in the United States. They see the panoramic mountain views, the exoticism of the West, and the perceived glamour of an international life. At most, someone might venture a polite, “Don’t you miss Italy?”

I landed here by chance, following the ebb and flow of my husband’s academic research contracts. What started as a “Why not?” adventure—a planned two-year stint before our son started school—became a permanent relocation. Eventually, we realized that if we wanted to build a stable future, we had to put down roots here.

It was a choice that, in many ways, didn’t really felt like a choice at the beginning.

The Perpetual Vacation That Ends

At first, living abroad feels like a perpetual vacation. Everything is new, sparked by wonder and curiosity. But the wonder eventually fades into the logistical grit of navigating healthcare systems, utilities, and social nuances.

Yet, the true “displacement” isn’t found in the language barrier or the confusing paperwork. There is a hidden price that reveals itself slowly, year after year. It’s the realization that you’ve missed a decade of birthdays, the quiet growth of nieces and nephews, and the final, precious years of the elderly.

The Void in the Living Room

My home is full of love, but it is strangely empty of the physical presence of my parents, my sister, my cousins and my childhood friends. They aren’t sitting at my table on Sunday; they haven’t tried out the new sofa. I haven’t cooked them the dish I finally mastered.

When we depart for a host country, we are rarely aware of the sacrifice asked of those who remain. Siblings are left to care for aging parents alone. Grandparents are deprived of the daily magic of watching their grandchildren change.

Reclaiming the Narrative

We are never truly prepared for the price we pay. But acknowledging that price is the first step in building a life that feels whole, even when it is split between two worlds. In my coaching work, we explore how to honor these ’empty spaces’ in our homes while still flourishing in the soil where we are currently planted.

What is one thing you used to take for granted in your home country that now feels like a luxury? How do you keep the physical memory of your loved ones alive in your current space? Share it in the comment section.