What nobody tells you about moving abroad when you're over thirty

Five years ago, I did something that made my former financial analyst colleagues think I'd completely lost it. I packed up my life and moved to Portugal.

Not for a job transfer. Not for love. Simply because I felt called to do something different.

Everyone had opinions. "Isn't it a bit late for this kind of adventure?" "What about your career trajectory?" "Don't you think this is something people do in their twenties?"

Here's what I wish someone had told me before I made the leap: moving abroad after thirty isn't just different from doing it in your twenties—it's an entirely different species of experience.

Your relationship with uncertainty changes completely

When you're twenty-two and backpacking through Europe, uncertainty feels like freedom. Every unknown feels like possibility waiting to unfold.

In your thirties? Uncertainty hits differently.

I remember my third week in Lisbon, standing in a government office trying to navigate residency paperwork in broken Portuguese. The twenty-something me would have laughed it off as an adventure. The thirty-something me had a mild panic attack in the bathroom afterward.

But here's the thing nobody mentions: while uncertainty feels scarier, you're infinitely better equipped to handle it. You have skills. You have perspective. You've weathered actual storms before, not just the romantic kind you imagine in your early twenties.

The financial reality is both harder and easier

Let's talk money, because many will not be honest about this part.

Moving abroad in your thirties means you likely have more savings than you did at twenty-five. But you also have more to lose. Real assets. Established credit. Retirement accounts that don't translate neatly across borders.

I spent months researching tax implications and international banking before my move—research that would have bored twenty-something me to tears. But this groundwork meant I avoided the financial chaos that derailed some of my younger expat friends.

The harder part? Your relationship with money is more complex now. You understand opportunity cost in ways you didn't before.

Your identity gets completely scrambled (and that's actually good)

In your twenties, you're still figuring out who you are anyway, so moving abroad feels like part of that natural exploration. In your thirties, you think you know yourself pretty well.

Then you move to a new country and realize how much of your identity was actually just your environment.

I discovered this the hard way during my first month in Portugal. Back home, I was the person who always had restaurant recommendations, who knew which coffee shop had the best wifi, who friends called for practical advice. Suddenly, I couldn't even figure out which bus to take to the grocery store.

It was humbling in the most necessary way.

The upside? You get to rebuild your sense of self more intentionally. I started trail running in Portuguese hills instead of familiar city parks. I began volunteering at local markets, using my hands instead of spreadsheets. Parts of me that had been dormant for years suddenly had space to breathe.

The loneliness hits different (but so does the solution)

Twenty-something loneliness abroad often gets masked by the constant stimulation of new experiences. Everything is so novel that you don't always notice the absence of deep connection.

Thirty-something loneliness is more acute because you know exactly what you're missing. You understand the value of the relationships you've left behind.

I remember calling my sister after a particularly isolating day, crying because I missed having people who got my references, who knew my history without explanation. The book I was reading didn't feel as meaningful without someone to discuss it with. The beautiful sunset felt hollow without familiar company.

But here's what surprised me: the solution to adult expat loneliness is different too. You're not looking to party your way into friendships or bond over shared inexperience. You're seeking genuine connection based on who you actually are now, not who you're becoming.

I started joining groups aligned with my real interests—gardening clubs, hiking groups, volunteer organizations. The friendships that formed were deeper from the start because I wasn't performing a version of myself I thought others wanted to see.

The relationships I built abroad became some of the most authentic I've ever had, precisely because I had to be more intentional about creating them.

Your perspective on "home" becomes beautifully complex

This might be the biggest surprise of all. In your twenties, moving abroad often feels like running toward something or away from something. In your thirties, it's more like adding layers to who you already are.

I used to think I'd either love Portugal and never want to leave, or hate it and come running back. Instead, I discovered something much more nuanced: you can build a meaningful life somewhere new while still carrying deep love for where you came from.

My morning routine now includes Portuguese news and American podcasts. I cook fusion meals that would horrify purists from both cultures. I've learned to hold multiple versions of myself simultaneously—the person I was at home and the person I'm becoming here.

This isn't the either-or adventure of younger years. It's an integration that only comes with enough life experience to know that complexity isn't confusion.

The career impact isn't what you expect

Everyone warned me about the professional risks of leaving an established career path. What they didn't mention was how moving abroad in your thirties can actually accelerate certain kinds of growth.

Yes, I stepped away from a clear trajectory in financial analysis. But living in a different culture, navigating foreign systems, and rebuilding my professional network from scratch developed skills I never would have gained in a traditional career progression.

The confidence that comes from proving to yourself that you can create a life anywhere? That translates into every professional situation afterward.

The real gift nobody talks about

Here's what I wish someone had told me before I made the leap: moving abroad after thirty isn't about finding yourself—it's about expressing yourself more fully.

You're not discovering who you are; you're creating space for all the parts of yourself that maybe didn't fit your previous circumstances. 

Now, I'm not a different person. I'm more myself than I've ever been.

The trail running that started as a way to explore Portuguese countryside became a passion that followed me back on visits home. The writing that began as a practical necessity to document my experience became the career shift I didn't even know I wanted.

What I'd tell my hesitant thirty-something self

If you're considering this leap, here's the truth: it won't be the carefree adventure you might have had in your twenties. It will be harder in some ways, and infinitely richer in others.

You'll question yourself more, but you'll also trust yourself more. You'll feel the weight of what you're leaving behind, but you'll also discover capabilities you never knew you had.

The twenty-something version of this experience is about becoming. The thirty-something version is about becoming more fully who you already are.

And honestly? I wouldn't trade that depth for all the carefree backpacking adventures in the world.