This Is Where the Story Begins of a New Life Abroad

Let’s get one thing straight.

This is not one of those blogs where I tell you I “found myself” on a beach in Bali while drinking coconut water and suddenly everything made sense. I mean… I wouldn’t complain if that happened. But no. That’s not this story.

This is messier. More real. And honestly, a bit more interesting.

I’m Nicolas, I’m 29, and at some point I realized something that didn’t sit well with me. The idea that I was supposed to pick one place, stay there, build everything there, and call it a life.

That’s what we’re all kind of told, right? Grow up. Study. Work. Settle down. Stay.

And I tried. I really did. I’m not one of those people who always knew they wanted a different life. I wasn’t born thinking “I’m gonna live in multiple countries and confuse airport staff with my lifestyle choices.” At the beginning, I was just… following the script.

But there was always this feeling in the background. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just there. Like a small voice going: “Is this it?”

Now, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with building a life in one place. For a lot of people, that’s exactly what they want. And that’s perfect. But for me, it started to feel… tight.

Like wearing a shirt that technically fits, but you can’t really breathe in it. You know that feeling? When everything is “fine” but something is off? Yeah. That one.

At first, I thought the solution was simple. Travel.

So I did what everyone does. I booked trips. Weekend getaways. A few days here, a week there. And don’t get me wrong, I loved it. New places, new food, the excitement of not knowing where anything is. Amazing.

But every time I came back home, something strange happened. It felt like I was returning to a life that didn’t fully belong to me anymore. Like I had seen something I couldn’t unsee. And suddenly, “going back to normal” felt… weird.

That’s when it hit me. Maybe the problem wasn’t that I needed more vacations. Maybe the problem was that I didn’t want to just visit places. I wanted to live in them.

There’s a big difference. Visiting is easy. Living is different.

When you visit, everything is exciting. You’re in discovery mode. You don’t care if you get lost because getting lost is part of the experience. When you live somewhere… you have to figure things out. Groceries. Rent. Bureaucracy. Wi-Fi that doesn’t work when you need it most (which is always).

And yet, that’s exactly what started to attract me. Not the postcard version of a place. The real one.

So slowly, without some big dramatic decision, my life started to shift. I didn’t wake up one day and say “I’m moving abroad forever.” It was more like… “Let me try staying a bit longer.”

Then a bit longer became normal. Then normal became a lifestyle.

Today, my life is split between countries. Italy and Poland, mostly. Two places, two rhythms, two different versions of daily life.

And if you’re thinking “wow that sounds cool and perfectly organized,” let me stop you right there. It’s not always organized.

Sometimes it’s amazing. Sometimes it’s confusing. Sometimes I don’t know where I left half of my stuff. At this point, I’m pretty sure I own the same charger in three different countries and still manage to not have it when I need it.

Living abroad is not just about changing location. It’s about changing perspective.

You start noticing things you never paid attention to before. How people talk. How they move. What they consider normal. And then you realize something weird. Normal is not universal.

What feels completely obvious in one country feels strange in another. And suddenly, you’re in between. Not fully from here, not fully from there.

And that can be uncomfortable. But it can also be incredibly freeing.

Because when you stop trying to fit into one definition of life, you start building your own. Piece by piece. Country by country. Experience by experience.

Now, let’s be honest for a second. Living abroad sounds cool. And it is. But it’s also not always easy.

There are moments where everything feels exciting and new. And there are moments where you’re just tired of figuring things out. Where you miss familiarity. Where you miss knowing exactly how things work. Where you miss… home.

And then comes the big question. Where is home?

That’s a tricky one. Because the more you move, the less clear that answer becomes.

At some point, home stops being a fixed place. It becomes something more fluid. Something you carry with you. Or something you build, temporarily, wherever you are.

And I think that’s one of the biggest shifts. You stop asking “Where do I belong?” And you start asking “Where do I want to be right now?”

This blog, The Moving Life, is born from all of this. Not from a perfect plan. Not from a moment of clarity on a mountain. But from a series of small decisions that slowly changed everything.

I didn’t create this space to show a perfect life. If that’s what you’re looking for, Instagram is full of it already.

This is more like… the behind-the-scenes. The real version. The thoughts, the doubts, the lessons, and yes, sometimes the stupid mistakes. Especially the stupid mistakes.

Because let’s be real, if you’re going to build a life between countries, you will mess things up at some point. You will take the wrong train. You will misunderstand something important. You will probably sign something without fully understanding it and hope for the best.

It’s part of the process. A slightly chaotic process, but still.

What I want to do here is simple. Share what this life actually feels like. Not just the highlights, but the in-between moments. The ones that don’t make it into perfect travel photos.

Maybe you’re already living abroad. Maybe you’re thinking about it. Or maybe you just have that feeling. That quiet voice asking: “What if there’s something more?”

If that’s you, you’re in the right place.

I’m not here to tell you to quit everything and move tomorrow. I’m also not here to give you a 10-step plan to “live your dream life abroad.” (If I ever do that, please remind me of this post.)

What I can do is share the reality of it. The good parts. The confusing parts. The parts that don’t make sense until they do.

Because the truth is… you don’t need to have everything figured out to start. You don’t need a perfect plan. You don’t need certainty. You just need a bit of curiosity. And maybe a little bit of courage.

Actually, scratch that. You definitely need courage. But the good news is, it grows as you go.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned so far, it’s this: you don’t have to stay where you started.

And more importantly… you’re allowed to build a life that looks different.

So this is where the story begins. Not at the beginning-beginning. But at the moment you decide to pay attention to that feeling.

The one that tells you there might be more out there.

Let’s see where it goes.