I imagined moving abroad for most of my life, the way we do when we want new adventures. I'd seen so much of the States and was always ready to pack up and try something new. So when the opportunity came, it was a yes from the jump.
I'd never even been to London. We had a small child. We visited once for a glimpse, but honestly, we were guessing when we chose a house. We were guessing when we sold or donated everything we owned. We were guessing when we said yes and started telling family and friends. Three years later, London is the best place we've ever lived. Full stop.
I've shared less about it online than I'd like, because it sometimes can feel like bragging. But I've realised that's not what this is. It's permission. If you're feeling friction in your life, a fresh start might be possible for you too.
We didn't just move. We started over.
The move itself wasn't the shift. The shift was the life we decided to build once we got here. I was coming out of postpartum and figuring out who I was, standing in an empty house. And that empty house was a gift. We got to choose everything again, on purpose:
Zero TVs instead of five. (Yes, five. We had five.)
No car. We walk, we take the train, we explore.
Simple, moderate furnishings. Only what we actually needed. Jumping out of the consumer/consumption circus.
Once I realised the life we were building was our choice, I could own it and grow into the space and place we chose. A move gives you a rare chance to stop carrying the old defaults and decide what you actually want your days to look like. Even if the kitchen and laundry work a bit different that you’re used to.
The honest part
You'll read a lot online about the hard things: the weather, the pace, making friends, navigating the NHS and school places, raising kids far from family. I was seeing it, preparing for it, making sure it didn’t deter me. And that's not what got to me. What I actually had to work through was smaller and more personal:
Time zones. Working offline was easy. Calls, check-ins and family logistics took real planning.
My own impatience. I didn't want to force friendships, so I let things unfold while we explored as a family. Then I'd get impatient with myself for no reason.
The urge to "win" at relocating. As if there were a right way to do it, and a finish line.
And yes, three years in we know more about the politics, the systems and the cost of living. Those are real. So are the heat waves, the months of fireworks, and all the funny little nuances we had no clue about. None of it has outweighed what we found.
Here's what I believe: if you want your old life in a new place, there will be friction. That's just not realistic. Through the lens of yoga, I practised letting go, embraced the change, and used tools and resources to prepare. I'm not saying I did it better. I'm saying it can be learned. And if you're feeling friction, you can unpack it, forgive yourself for believing it would only work if it looked a certain way, and then choose: learn to love what you've got, or try something else again.
Is a fresh start right for you?
I think more people should consider one. Not because everyone needs to move countries, but because so many of us stay put out of habit, not choice. If you're feeling friction, you're allowed to go. There’s a quote that always made me smile: "If you don't like where you are, move. You are not a tree".
Some signs it might be time to look at a change:
You keep daydreaming about a different place, and the pull doesn't fade.
Your days run on defaults you never really chose.
You feel more like yourself when you travel than when you're home.
The thing holding you back is fear of what people will think, not what you actually want.
A short practice before you decide:
Arrive. Sit somewhere quiet and take five slow breaths, letting each exhale be a little longer than the inhale.
Picture an ordinary morning there. Not the holiday version: a Tuesday. Where do you wake up? What do you see, hear, do?
Notice your body. Does your chest open or tighten? Do your shoulders drop? Your nervous system often knows before your mind does.
Picture staying. Same morning, five years from now, nothing changed. Notice your body again.
Write it down. What did you feel in each? What's one small step you could take to find out more?
This isn't about making the decision in one sitting. It's about listening to yourself honestly.
What I found here
I never asked "Why isn't this like home?" I asked "What's good here that I'd never have found at home?"
That's where glimmers come in: small moments that tell your nervous system you're safe and okay. I have to be honest, I can't stand the word. But I haven't found a better one, and you know what I mean. There are so many of them in London that I've never felt anywhere else:
Getting to live like a tourist in my own city
The dumb luck of ending up in the absolute best neighbourhood, school, church, high road and community
Parks, trails and green space all within walking distance
Watching my daughters absolutely thrive here
The more I looked for them, the more I found. Three years in, home is cosy, surreal, kind, generous and fun.
Your fresh start
You don't need a perfect plan. We didn't have one. We had a yes, a willingness to guess, and the freedom to build something new on purpose. Whether it's a new country, a new city or just a new way of living where you are, you're allowed to choose differently. Meet yourself with patience instead of pressure, and see what opens up.
I'm creating a two-part meditation series to help:
Fresh Start is for anyone considering a big change, with practices for listening to yourself, naming what you're ready to leave behind, and stepping forward on purpose.
Finding Home is for anyone who's made the move and is feeling the friction, with practices for letting go of the old life, forgiving yourself, and finding joy where you are.
I'd love to hear from you: have you made a big move, or are you dreaming about one? Tell me in the comments or send me a message on @transformbydoing.
