On December 28, 2013, I sat in Newark Airport with my husband, two cats on a separate flight, and every possession we could squeeze into checked bags—terrified, excited, and questioning everything.
Twelve years later, here’s what I wish I could tell that version of me (and you, if you’re standing at the edge of your own big move): that fear isn’t failure, guilt never fully leaves but becomes lighter, and moving abroad won’t magically change who you are—but it will stretch, test, and transform you in ways you can’t yet imagine.
In this deeply personal, non-listicle post, I share raw truths about homesickness, grief, privilege, and what really matters the night before you choose to leave your old life behind—and how to start, even when your voice shakes.