Before You Move Overseas, Ask Yourself These 12 Questions

An expert guide to life's big decisions.

I have a lot of experience on the topic of moving overseas.

My husband is American and I am Australian— our kids are dual citizens.

My eldest, who is 8, has lived in 4 countries— Australia, England, Italy and USA. This was before she was 6. Italy is somewhere we’ve visited for extended periods several times because we have a home there— a renovated farmhouse on 60 acres of organic land. I shared a bit about it on Instagram here.

My second child has lived in three of those countries (all four minus England).

My third child, our two year old, has lived only in Australia. Poor uncultured thing.

(I hope by now you get my dry sense of humour).

People used to say to me ‘I don’t know how you do it’, when I was getting ready for our next move. I used to think to myself ‘I actually love it’.

Fast forward to today, I really don’t love it anymore. I love roots. I love community. I love routine. I love comfort. I love being close to family.

But, every 2-3 years my feet start to itch and sometimes my eye too. I can feel the wings on my back trying to spread. I need change, even if just temporarily.

I grew up with a very steady life and very little travel. We moved five minutes away when mum and dad separated when I was 5 and my mum is still in that same house today. I didn’t go on an airplane until I was 15, when I went for my first state soccer trip. Our family holidays consisted of us going to a little Aussie caravan park or a friends holiday house within 60 mins of home. I have no complaints about this, by the way.

My husband on the other hand lived a different childhood. From age 8 he moved a lot for his dad’s work— from California, to Nebraska, to Virginia, to Lake Tahoe, then to Arizona. He has stories of getting up at 4am to study (in primary school) because the east coast of the USA was academically ahead of the west coast.

I grew up and craved adventure and variety. My husband likes to travel but he just loves to stay.

We’ve been married ten years this year and we have met in the same place— we’re up for adventures, but we love ‘home’. We’ve got no desire to bounce around endlessly. That ain’t our idea of a good time.

We are not nomadic backpackers who live out of suitcases and bunny hop from country to country— that sounds exhausting to us. We like to live places. We have the most solid community in Australia, as well as community in the USA, Italy and England.

We have done some things others would think is nutso though. Like, when 32 weeks pregnant with our second child, packing up our home in London and flying back to Australia. Moving into a new house at 37 weeks and giving birth on our brand new rug in that house at 40.5 weeks pregnant. Right after that, the covid craziness hit and it seems that intuitively we knew— because we were in Australia for our postpartum with family and not alone in cold, dreary England.

I have seen our ‘moves’ as a thrill. We always knew we wanted to experience different places while our kids were little because we wanted to root down as they grew into themselves and really ensure they had a sense of belonging.

We have spent the most time in my home country, Australia, where my kids have cousins who are like extra siblings to them, aunties, an uncle and of course my mum who is the grandparent they are most attached to.

But also, my husband is an only child and his dad turns 80 this year so we do expect to spend more time there. I make sure to facetime his parents a lot and we see them at least once a year. My kids are very blessed to have four healthy grandparents who all love them. I never had a living grandfather and was only connected closely with my nanna- mum’s mum- which, was one of my most treasured relationships.

Hear me when I say that I know how important family is, especially when raising children. I just want to give that context in case you’re reading this, not knowing much about my history.

We have experienced those heart wrenching moments while living overseas, when it’s time for nanna to to fly home. The emptiness, the tears, the visceral grief of separation from someone you love. It never gets easier.

Equally, I know the expansion that comes from letting new environments show and teach me things that the familiarity of my home soil couldn’t.

I know the bonding that comes from being a family away from all families of origin, and I know so well the exhilaration of comfort when reunited once again with cousins, grandparents, aunties, uncle.

We know enough now to know the difference between an impulsive, reactive decision and a well thought out one. This is the natural wisdom that comes from actually experiencing the reality of moving overseas several times, with young children— the reality is very different to the romantic reality we conjure up in our heads.

My husband and I have sat at ‘the decision’ point many times. Do we stay or do we go? I know I’m not alone in this being a recurrent conversation for many families— especially when you have families in locations across the world. We have answered ‘stay’ more than we have answered ‘go’. Which goes to show how often the question has presented.

We have grown now to be very conservative when making these decisions, which is natural considering our children are older now, and we have lost the romanticism of regular, long haul travelling. The shine wears off after a little while and the appeal of rootedness grows stronger.

I’ve learned that there really is no perfect place. Everything choice has tradeoff. Every country has it’s issues. If you are looking for a utopia, you will have to wait for heaven. The next best thing is to create a mind that is like eden, regardless of where you live.

I’ve also learned more about myself as I’ve matured— like, the triggers which once made me move on a decision too fast before. I can see more clearly as I gather wisdom from past experiences and mature into myself.

Sometimes, I think that it must be just me who has this crazy loop running in her head. There is this longing to go and have new life experiences in far away lands where I can make sense of the world in a new way, know myself in a new way, and bond as a family in new ways too. Travel really does that. But there is then a real connection to my home land, my home country, the people here, the memories here, the ease, the comfort, the lifestyle, the bonds.

I feel always between the two and i’ve come to be at peace with that. It’s ok. It’s ok to love where you are from and also yearn to experience more beyond it.

It’s painful to consider it a ‘split’ or a ‘conflict’ when it’s not. It’s two beautiful parts of the human experience alive at once— curiosity, and connection. Variety, and comfort. Expansion, and safety.

There is a mum of three on my street from England. She told me recently that they have been deliberating about whether to go home to England or stay longer in Australia. Her family, and her husbands family are in England, but her brother recently moved with his kids to Noosa, Queensland and so her family of origin is now split across the world too.

She told me that the decision has been eating her alive and that she’d wish someone would make the decision for her. I was thinking that she could not be speaking to a more experienced person in this situation but I just said something like ‘Tell me about it sis.’ She told me she applied for a big job here, and that she would let that decide for her— whether she got it or not. It always feels easier when we sense that there is a big fat sign telling us exactly what to do and then we don’t have to own the decision for ourselves.

But then she didn’t get the job. That should have indicated that it was time to go if the job was the decider, right? But then, her husband got a really good job.

After a few months I asked her again and she looked at me with that look that says ‘this question is the bane of my existence’ and said “we still don’t know what to do.”

I know the feels sis.

Strangely, I have these conversations often. Many people are quietly stewing over a decision, waiting for something to become clear, or for someone, or some big circumstance change to make the decision for them. But life doesn’t work that way.

God gave us free will so that we would fully participate— this means owning our decisions— even with that gnawing fear that they could go pear shaped.

My husband always says “there is no bad decision here. We just have to stand by what we choose. Both options bring emotional discomfort and challenge and we can endure that regardless.”

I have had that many calls over the years, most of them Before Christ, with astrocartographers who have told me that Europe is fire for me. Luck, relationships, blessings, good home life, career opportunities, health— some of my lines through certain places (the Balearic islands!) are off the richter. I felt my moon line running right through London so strongly that I became pregnant with our second child a few weeks after moving there.

Other neighbours on our street, who have also lived internationally with their kids, told us that they too often think about returning overseas, but that the indecision got so much for them that they made an agreement to just stop talking about it for 2 years. They promised each other that in two years, they’d talk about it again. They told me something that I knew all too well— indecision is exhausting. You cannot live your life in it.

We have some other neighbours who are both from here, both have their entire families here, and have something like 20 cousins for their kids here. They have zero desire to ever leave, because their entire lives are here. For some, the situation is just simpler.

There is no right or wrong. This life is yours to live and yours to decide for. This is the weight many don’t want to carry— we don’t want this autonomy, this responsibility.

Self responsibility and the freedom it gives can feel burdensome for some. Some would much rather just be told what to do— then they can avoid that awful feeling of ‘getting it wrong’.

What I have learned about decisions is something I wrote about on here years ago— every decision requires a death. Even small ones. When you make a decision to live somewhere, you are temporarily or permanently ending your life somewhere else.

This is what we are afraid of. We are afraid of getting it wrong. We are afraid of endings. We are afraid of death.

Sure, you can always do a U-turn and say ‘hey, it didn’t work, we’re ready to go home’ or even ‘ok, times up here! Great adventure, but time to go home!’…. but it’s tiring to try and have all doors open at all times.

What do they call it? The paradox of choice? It’s true, that the privilege of being able to live anywhere, creates a heavy burden. The choice to stay, comes with a lot of what ifs.

If you’ve been a reader here for a year or more you’d have read many entries for me on this topic over the years— many personal entries written from different locations, and at different spots in my learning process. I’ve written from the place of ‘time to go’ and I’ve written from the place of ‘time to stay.’

I’ve also written from the place of ‘I have an urge to go but I can see it’s just a trigger.’

I’ve lived through many of those moments where:

— Once you make a decision to go, the place you are starts to feel and look really good. You see all the people you love, the beach is glowing, your friend pops over with sourdough and you doubt your decision.

— Resistance comes up both when you decide to stay and when you decide to go. You have to face discomfort both ways.

— I have wanted to use the bible verse “A prophet is not without honor except in his own hometown and in his own household” as an excuse to not face off with my triggers with my home town. SEE?! Jesus said to leave so bye!

I also have a split opinion on the old saying that wherever you go, there you are. It’s right in that you cannot outrun your inner world. But I know first hand that certain environments do bring out different parts of you. Different cultures, environments and lands have helped me make sense of things. I’ve known myself differently in different places.

This next big chunk of this enormous article may be one of the most practically helpful things I’ve written on the topic. It’s a big one!

From my experience, I’ve created some questions which cut deep to the core of decision making on this topic. Number 2 and 5 and 10 are big ones!

Consider this like a little guide.

Save it and come back to it when you make big decisions or small ones. Some of these questions can be applied to many other life decisions too— you will see that I ask you to really get to the root of your wrestles and bust through to freedom and clarity with these 13 questions.

These are amazing journal prompts and conversations to have with your partner/kids.

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Let’s dive in.