When I moved to France 25 years ago, I didn’t expect life to feel like an endless vacation (although if I’m being honest, I might have secretly hoped it would). I was buzzing with excitement, full of croissants and daydreams, and blissfully hoping that living abroad was just like visiting…only longer.
Oh, sweet, naive me.
Back then, I truly believed things like setting up a French bank account, buying a cell phone, or finding a new apartment would simply involve handing someone money and receiving the thing I wanted in return. After all, that’s how it worked back home, right? Money changed hands. Problem solved.
How wrong I was. About all of it.
The Expat Honeymoon: A Real Thing
When you first move abroad, everything sparkles.
Every cobblestone street feels charming. Your social media feed is full of gorgeous markets, scenic views, and captioned excitement like, “Can you believe this is my LIFE now?”
You try new foods. You discover tiny local cafés. Even the pigeons seem elegant.
This is what people often call the expat honeymoon phase: a period when living abroad feels like a wonderful, permanent holiday.
And it’s completely normal. But eventually, the sparkle wears off.
Suddenly, the same quaint bureaucracy that seemed so “authentically French” begins to feel like a personal vendetta. You start realizing that translating your utility bill with Google Lens is not as adorable as it once was. You stand in line at the prefecture for three hours, only to be told you’ve filled out the wrong form. Again.
It’s at this point—the “end of the honeymoon”—when many expats start to wonder:
Did I make a huge mistake moving here?
Why does everything feel so difficult?
Why am I crying over a SIM card purchase?
This is the moment when you realize you’re not a tourist anymore. You’re a resident. And the reality of expat life challenges begins to show up in everyday situations you never imagined would be difficult.
Why the Expat Honeymoon Ends
If this is where you’re at right now, let me assure you:
You didn’t make a mistake by moving abroad.
The end of the honeymoon phase doesn’t mean you chose the wrong country, career move, or adventure. It simply means the novelty has worn off enough for real life (and real emotions) to settle in.
You’re dealing with:
Bureaucracy that feels like running a marathon in flip-flops
Language barriers that make you feel suddenly shy or incompetent
Homesickness that sneaks up when you least expect it
Culture shock, even if you thought you were prepared
A nervous system on high alert, because your brain still perceives newness as potential danger
And let’s be honest…it’s one thing to be on holiday where you expect things to be different. It’s another to stand at the pharmacy counter, struggling to explain that you have heartburn and not a broken heart.
Living Abroad Is Harder Than Visiting
One of the trickiest things about the end of the expat honeymoon is that it can feel like nobody warned you about this part.
Before moving, people probably said things like:
“You’re so lucky!”
“You’re living the dream!”
“You’ll be fluent in no time!”
And sure…there’s a bit of truth to those statements. After all, living abroad is exciting and full of growth. But when you’re in the weeds of daily life, it’s easy to wonder:
“Why is living abroad so hard sometimes?”
“Am I failing at being an expat?”
“Will I ever feel at home here?”
When that happens, remind yourself that feeling overwhelmed, emotional, or exhausted doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. It means you’re adjusting to life abroad, and your nervous system is working overtime trying to keep you safe in a world where everything suddenly feels unfamiliar.
What Helps When the Honeymoon Ends
Here are some things I’ve learned, both from my own journey and from coaching high-achieving expats like yourself:
Adjust Your Expectations
Life abroad isn’t necessarily better or worse — it’s just different. The sooner you stop expecting things to “work like they did back home,” the easier your days will feel.
Don’t Isolate Yourself
It’s tempting to hide away when everything feels hard. Try to connect with other expats, local friends, or people who understand the unique roller coaster you’re riding. Talking about it reduces the feeling that you’re all alone in experiencing this.
Laugh at the Chaos
Someday, the stories that make you cry now will be the stories that make everyone howl with laughter at a dinner party. (Trust me; I’ve racked up more than a few over the years.)
Celebrate Small Wins
Did you finally decipher a letter from the government about your visa? Manage a joke in your new language? Navigate public transportation without getting lost? Celebrate it! Every small win builds confidence.
Care for Your Nervous System
All these new experiences keep your nervous system on high alert. Try practicing mindfulness, gentle exercise, deep breathing, or any other activity that helps your body calm down.
A New Kind of Honeymoon
While my own expat honeymoon ended a long time ago, I eventually found a deeper, steadier love for life abroad. One that isn’t built on endless excitement but on resilience, adaptation, and the incredible feeling of belonging (even if it took some bureaucratic wrestling matches to get there).
So, if you’re sitting in a foreign bank, clutching your paperwork and fighting tears, remember: this is the part of your expat journey where you cross the bridge from visitor to resident. It’s where the real growth happens and the true adventure — the one where you build a real life abroad — begins.
-----------
Need a Bit of Extra Support?
As a Certified Life Transition Coach based in Paris, France, I help high-achieving expats navigate their way through the changes and challenges of their adventurous life abroad.
Curious if coaching could help you too? Book a free discovery call with me at thriveonthrough.com.
Because you deserve to thrive (not just survive) wherever you call home.
For *free* daily expat encouragement, follow Thrive On Through on Facebook & Instagram.
As someone who's lived through this exact transition, thank you for capturing what so many of us experience but can't quite put into words. The shift from "charming European bureaucracy" to "why does getting internet require three appointments and a blood sacrifice" is painfully accurate.
I remember thinking I was uniquely bad at being an expat because simple tasks felt impossibly difficult comparing to a home-land experience.
What really resonates is your point about the nervous system being on high alert. I never connected those dots, but it explains why everything felt so exhausting those first couple years. Back home, running errands was mindless. Here, every interaction requires mental preparation and leaves you drained.
The loneliness is real too. You can't just casually chat with the cashier or make small talk - suddenly you're analyzing every social cue wondering if you're being rude.
But you're absolutely right about finding that deeper, steadier love. Five years in, I can finally laugh about accidentally ordering liver instead of pasta, or showing up to a formal event in jeans because I misunderstood the dress code. Those nightmare moments become the stories that make you who you are.
Thank you for reminding us that struggling doesn't mean we're failing - it means we're human.
I loved this. Heartfelt, beautifully written and thoughtful. I really enjoyed this read! 🧡