Why moving abroad feels so hard: The neuroscience of change

Moving abroad can feel overwhelming. Learn the neuroscience behind identity shifts, emotional overwhelm, and discover practical tools to adapt with clarity and confidence.

Why moving countries feels like starting over

As a serial mover who has moved countries many times since the age of five, from Asia to the Caribbean, to Europe, to Southeast Asia, and now back in Europe again, I’ve realised something no one really talks about: the in-between. The space after you arrive, but before anything truly feels like home.

When family and friends back home ask how you’re settling in or whether you already speak the language, you smile, maybe even cheerfully, and say, “So far, so good.” But deep down, you’re mourning what you left behind and quietly wondering how you’ll ever settle here when everything still feels so overwhelming.

You feel small because you’re still speaking the local language like a toddler, unable to express who you are. You feel uncertain because so much energy goes into decoding simple things: streets, culture, transportation, unspoken rules, new colleagues, new neighbours.

And in that exhaustion, you find yourself searching for something familiar, a routine, a food brand, a street layout similar to the last country you called home. Anything that lets your body exhale again. What you’re experiencing is not personal failure. It’s neuroscience.

What’s happening in your brain

After speaking with people from different backgrounds, the same themes appear again and again:

• “Even if I move from one city to another, I sometimes feel like I’m starting from scratch.”
• “I’ve been moving around since a very young age, but this move feels incredibly hard.”
• “In my own language, I can express myself clearly. But when I try to speak German, I sound like a child learning their first words.”
• “Back home, I felt confident. Here, I don’t quite feel like myself yet.”
• “At work, I sometimes misread the tone of my colleagues, and when someone speaks abruptly, it can feel like I’m being talked down to, even though I know it’s probably just the local communication style.”

These reactions are not signs of weakness. They are signs that your brain is trying to re-establish a sense of safety, belonging, and predictability. 

Your brain craves what feels familiar: familiar routines, streets, and words act as shortcuts that conserve energy. When you move countries, almost all of those shortcuts disappear at once. Here is what happens in your brain:

Your alarm system goes on high alert

Your amygdala becomes more active when everything is new and unfamiliar. Small daily tasks suddenly feel big, emotional, or intimidating.

Your thinking brain gets tired quickly

Your prefrontal cortex goes into overdrive:

• Which word should I use?
• What does that expression mean?
• Which train should I take?
• Did I understand correctly? 

These micro-decisions create mental fatigue, even when you haven’t done much.

Your reward system loses its rhythm

Your brain gets dopamine from familiar routines and small wins. When those disappear, so does your sense of flow and confidence.

Your identity network gets shaken

Parts of you that once felt strong - humour, competence, personality - show up differently in another culture or language. You catch yourself thinking, “Who am I here?”

You’re not starting from zero. You’re starting from unfamiliar. Your brain is rebuilding your world. The discomfort you feel is simply your mind learning how to belong again.

The identity shift: “Who am I here?”

One of the most surprising parts of moving countries isn’t the paperwork or logistics. It’s the identity shift. The quiet moment when you realise that the grounded, capable version of you “back home” doesn’t fully show up here yet.

I remember standing at a cheese counter in Germany, unable to say the simplest words. I speak five other languages effortlessly, yet I felt small and voiceless. The woman behind the counter smiled patiently, but my brain went blank.

Another time, at a networking event, someone asked what I did. Back in Amsterdam and Singapore, I could command a room with my expertise in financial services and training. Here, I stumbled through explaining my 16+ years across continents, wondering if any of it translated. The confident professional suddenly felt like an imposter.

Looking back, it wasn’t about vocabulary; it was about finding my footing in a new identity context.

This identity shift isn’t emotional only; it is neurological:

Your environment shapes your sense of self

Identity forms through interactions, language, and routines. Change the surrounding cues, and the inner map blurs.

Switching languages changes your emotional tone

Each language activates different pathways in the brain. Feeling expressive in one language and hesitant in another isn’t inauthentic; it’s adaptive.

Culture influences your reactions

Every culture has its own pace and communication style. Your nervous system adjusts, which can feel confusing or destabilising at first.

Belonging is biological

Oxytocin, your bonding hormone, drops when you lose your familiar networks. Until new bonds form, you may feel emotionally tender or out of place.

You’re not losing your identity. You’re reorganising it, integrating who you were with who you’re becoming.

How applied neuroscience helps you adapt: The Inner Clarity Method™

Understanding what your brain does during transition is comforting, but it leads to a practical question: How do you navigate the overwhelm while your nervous system is still adjusting?

Through years of coaching global citizens, I developed an approach that turns neuroscience into simple, effective daily practices: The Inner Clarity Method™, where applied neuroscience meets mindset and intentional living.

Here’s how to work with your brain instead of against it:

• Start with calm: A calm brain learns faster. Try slow breathing with a longer exhale to signal safety.
• Anchor yourself in what matters now: Purpose acts like an internal compass. Ask: “What matters most to me in this season?”
• Speak to yourself like a friend: Your brain believes the words you repeat. Shift from “I should be better at this” to “I’m learning, and my brain is adapting.”
• Reintroduce small moments of familiarity: A playlist, a morning routine, a daily walk. These rituals create predictability, and predictability calms the nervous system.
• Visualise your future competence: Imagine yourself navigating your new environment confidently. Mental rehearsal helps the brain rewire more quickly.

You don’t have to master everything at once. Small shifts create clarity and stability while everything outside is changing.

You’re not starting over, you’re expanding

Moving countries can make you feel like pieces of yourself are scattered across languages, places, and versions of who you once were. But you’re not starting from zero, you’re starting from unfamiliar. And the unfamiliar is the beginning of adaptation. 

When you understand what your brain is doing, reorganising, rewiring, searching for safety, the struggle becomes less personal. You stop asking, “What’s wrong with me?” and start recognising: your brain is guiding you toward belonging.

With compassion and clarity, you rebuild your internal foundation. You regain your voice. You reconnect with your strengths. You rediscover who you are and who you’re becoming.

Even now, after years of living just outside Hamburg, I am still learning new words, new expressions, new ways of belonging. What once felt foreign has softened; now I walk my dog through the neighbourhood, greeting people by name, pausing for conversations I never expected to have in a language I once struggled to form a sentence in.

Belonging didn’t happen overnight. It happened one gentle moment at a time.

You’re not losing yourself; you’re expanding. Wherever you are, between countries, languages, or identities, your brain is adapting with you, step by step.