In February 2022, my (now) husband came home from work with a life-changing offer: an opportunity to move abroad with his company. At first, I was thrilled. We’d been dreaming about living abroad for a while, although we hadn’t nailed down a location. But his expression made me pause. Clearly, he wasn’t so sure what I’d think of this particular destination. “Where are we moving to?” I asked.
“Dubai.”
In an instant, my excitement turned into disbelief. Dubai wasn’t even on my radar, let alone a place I imagined living. Yet, instead of dismissing the idea outright, we talked (a lot) about what this move could mean for our future.
My first thought? “Can we even live together there as an unmarried couple?” A quick Google search reassured us that the laws had recently changed, so yes, we could. My next thought was more personal. Perhaps it was selfish, but I was on the cusp of launching my career as a personal performance (life) coach, having just started to reduce my hours as an occupational therapist for the NHS. I had big plans to start my own practice and eventually transition out of OT altogether. It felt like my own dreams were being put on hold in favour of his opportunity.
For two weeks, we debated. Ultimately, the decision was mine. If I didn’t want to go, he’d turn down the offer. If I was up for it, we’d go for it. Once I decided to take the leap, I felt more positive and started exploring how I could continue my career in Dubai. But, as I soon learned, the costs of starting up a business there were sky-high—licensing fees, business banking fees, and subscriptions for tools like Canva and my website all piled up.
I handed in my notice at the NHS, ready to leave within the company’s timeframe, but the move got delayed...by four months. The frustration was real. Without a clear start date, I couldn’t prepare effectively, and I felt like my life was in limbo.
As the move became more real, one overwhelming emotion took over: fear. I would be completely dependent on my (then) boyfriend financially, socially, and emotionally in a foreign country. After many long discussions, I finally admitted that the thought of being unmarried made me feel insecure about the whole situation. It wasn’t something we had planned, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make me feel safe, so we got married two weeks before the move. We had a larger celebration a year later with family and friends, and I couldn’t be happier with how it all turned out. My husband even jokes that he enjoys being married, so I don’t feel too bad about pushing for it!
Once we arrived in Dubai, things took another turn. The company was missing a key team member, and I ended up stepping in to help. My own plans were shelved again, and I worked for the company for a year. While this provided me with an income and helped us settle into this (very expensive) city, it also meant my coaching business was once again on the back burner. Eventually, I realised that working together was making it hard to switch off at home, so I left to finally focus on building my business.
But with work out of the picture, I started feeling lost. Dubai wasn’t what I expected. Without a strong support network, I found myself battling loneliness, homesickness, and a sense of purposelessness. It hit me hard. My first step was seeking professional help. Therapy helped me realise I needed to be intentional about settling in. I started attending art classes and workshops, but without forming lasting connections, it wasn’t enough.
So, I decided to commit to a fixed art course where I could meet the same people each week. That decision was a game changer. I connected with some amazing women who were also looking to make new friends. I also met women through my coaching courses who were at similar stages in their journeys, and we’ve been supporting each other ever since. Building friendships has been the single most impactful factor in my adjustment to expat life.
Finding a home was another challenge. We wanted somewhere that felt comfortable and welcoming in this arid, unfamiliar landscape. After what felt like an endless search, we found a place that stretched our budget but felt like it could be our sanctuary. We’ve just renewed for our third year, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else. We’ve transformed the space into a home, filled with plants, artwork, and a cosy garden. Now, whenever we return from a trip, it really feels like we’re coming home.
Leaving my job at the company brought up more emotions. Without my own income, I felt guilty, like I was a burden. Being child-free added to this pressure. Sure, I was working hard—starting my business, managing the household, and planning trips—but that guilt lingered. It’s a mindset issue, but it’s real.
What helped me was adopting the mindset that we’d be in Dubai for at least five years. This shift gave me the clarity to focus on making things work rather than constantly wondering if I should return home. Instead of dwelling on the challenges, I started finding solutions.
So, that’s my story. If you’re reading this and feel alone in your struggles, please know you’re not. So many of my friends, especially the trailing spouses, have shared similar experiences—feelings of lost purpose, dependency on their spouse, homesickness, and guilt. Knowing how common these struggles are inspired me to dedicate myself to helping other women settle into their expat lives. My mission is to help them avoid the lowest points, depression, and despair, by offering the support I didn’t have during my journey.
It does get better. With time, effort, and perseverance, you can thrive too.
Comentários