By Neşe Özdemir
People often describe moving to another country as a fresh start.
What is less often spoken about is the quiet sense of loss that comes with it.
When I first arrived in the United Kingdom, everything felt unfamiliar—the streets, the language, even the rhythm of daily life. Simple conversations required courage. I knew very few people, and the culture around me felt distant.
In the beginning, you exist in between.
You wake up each day reminding yourself that this is now your life, while a part of you still belongs somewhere else.
For a long time, I lived in that space between adaptation and uncertainty. I was learning the language, understanding the system, and slowly discovering how life worked in this new country. But belonging is not something that comes simply with time.
The first moment of real relief came during my third year. After completing my initial period, I applied for a longer residence permit. When it was finally approved, something inside me softened. For the first time, I felt a sense of stability beneath my feet.
But the true turning point came when my children joined me.
The day they arrived was the day everything shifted. Until then, life had felt temporary—like something I was managing, rather than truly living.
Living abroad teaches you lessons you never expect.
One of the most surprising was the culture of respect. Words like “thank you” and “sorry” are part of everyday life, repeated often and naturally. At first, it felt unfamiliar. But over time, I realized how powerful these small expressions are.
Observing how people respect different opinions, beliefs, and lifestyles made me reflect deeply. Perhaps this is what allows a society to coexist with harmony.
And yet, adapting and belonging are not the same.
No matter how well you integrate, a part of you continues to carry where you came from. For me, that place is Türkiye.
I missed the blue sky.
The sun and the sea.
Long coffee conversations with friends.
The warmth of spontaneous gatherings.
The sincerity of people helping each other without expecting anything in return.
These are not things you replace.
They are feelings you carry.
Living abroad teaches you that belonging is not only about geography.
It is about where your memories were created.
At the same time, it changes you.
One of the most profound transformations I experienced was in how I relate to others. For many years, I was someone who always gave—my time, my energy, my support. Giving felt natural.
But eventually, I faced a difficult truth: when you are always the one giving, people sometimes forget that you may need something too.
There were moments when I needed support, and the door was simply closed.
That realization changed me.
It taught me that growth often begins the moment you learn to say “no.”
Saying “yes” is easy.
Saying “no” requires courage.
Sometimes, the people who teach us this lesson are the ones who hurt us the most.
Living in another country does not just change where you live.
It changes how you see people, how you see the world, and most importantly, how you see yourself.
Over time, I came to understand that living abroad means carrying two identities at once. You build a life in one place while your roots remain in another.
Perhaps this is the quiet truth of starting over:
You learn to build a future in a place where your past does not live.
You learn the language, the rules, the rhythm of a new life.
Yet somewhere inside you, another sky, another street, another voice still exists.
Living abroad does not erase where you come from.
It simply teaches you how to carry two homes within one heart.
