Rebuilding yourself as an expat – from cavewoman to confident

I’m scared shitless.

No other way to put it. In a few days, I’m stepping onto a stage to share this story—this very personal, raw, messy story—about how I lost myself and found my way back as an expat. And while I’m terrified, I’m doing it anyway. Because one of my biggest goals is to become a keynote speaker, to stand in front of rooms full of expats and tell them:

“You’re not alone. You’re not broken. And you sure as hell are not doomed to live in a constant state of frustration just because you moved abroad.”

I know this because I’ve been there. I know what it feels like to lose yourself in a foreign country, to feel like a toddler trapped in an adult’s body, to navigate life like a cavewoman, struggling to make sense of everything around you. But I fought my way back. I rebuilt myself as an expat.

If you’re in that place now, I can help you do the same.

This is the story I’m about to share on stage, one about rebuilding yourself as an expat. It starts with a reflection—not the deep, metaphorical kind, but the one staring back at me through the glass door of a hair salon in Vienna.

The cavewoman in front of the salon

Have you ever seen a cavewoman hesitate outside a hair salon? If not, let me paint the picture for you:

Me. Standing in front of a sleek glass door. Shivering and sweating at the same time, despite the brutal -15°C cold. My hair, wild and unkempt, mirrored the chaos inside me.

I had been standing there for too long. My hands refused to move, my feet cemented to the pavement. I knew what I had to do. Just open the door. Just walk inside. Just say the words I had been rehearsing in my head for days.

But my brain had other ideas.

What if I messed up? What if they didn’t understand me? What if I sounded stupid? What if I asked for a haircut and ended up bald?

This wasn’t just about hair. This was about something much deeper—something that had been building for months.

Losing yourself as an expat

Before moving abroad and starting my expat life, I was a force of nature. Independent, confident, in control.

I had built a life for myself in Santiago, Chile. I had a career, a home, a social life. I knew how to get things done—whether it was negotiating a contract, fixing a leaky sink, or navigating the bureaucratic hell of government paperwork.

Then I moved to Austria, full of confidence. I had a plan—six months to learn German, a year to start my master’s in clinical psychology, 18 months to land a job.

Except life had other plans.

The moment I stepped off the plane, my illusion of control shattered. The airport announcements? Unintelligible. The street signs? A blur of consonants. The people? Efficient, fast, moving forward while I stood frozen.

I went from being an independent, capable woman to feeling like a toddler again.

Imagine knowing exactly what you want to say but not having the words to express it. Imagine mispronouncing something simple and being met with blank stares. Imagine needing help but being too embarrassed to ask for it.

That was my daily life.

One day at the supermarket, an old woman scolded me for taking too long at the register. I fumbled for words, but they got stuck in my throat. I abandoned my groceries and left.

I was shrinking. I was disappearing.

The mirror moment

One morning, I stood in my bathroom, staring at my reflection. The woman in the mirror looked dull, tired, defeated.

I didn’t recognize her.

That moment hit me like a punch to the stomach. I had worked too hard, fought too many battles, to let myself disappear.

Something inside me snapped.

“Enough.”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a whisper. But it was the most powerful thing I had said in years.

I grabbed my coat, my bag, and my tangled mess of thoughts and walked straight to the hair salon.

The first step to rebuilding yourself as an expat

That’s how I ended up outside that glass door, paralyzed.

When I finally forced myself inside, my heart pounded like a war drum. My mouth was dry. My voice barely worked. But I managed to croak:

“Können Sie mir helfen, bitte? Ich brauche ein Haarschnitt und meine Haare färben.”

It was German. Bad German. Cavewoman German. But it was German.

And the stylist? She understood me.

“Ja klar, sehr gerne.”

A weight I didn’t even know I was carrying dropped from my chest.

As I walked toward that chair, something shifted.

I could do this.

I was doing this.

And sitting there, as my hair was washed, cut, and colored, I realized:

This was more than a haircut. This was a statement. I was taking my life back. 

Learning to speak—in every sense

That cavewoman stuck around for a while. She grunted her way through awkward supermarket encounters, butchered sentences at the bank, and panicked when people spoke too fast.

But she kept going.

And one day, somewhere between arguing over the correct bread at the bakery and successfully setting up a phone contract without crying, she evolved.

Now? I’m fluent. Not just in German, but in this life. I rebuilt myself as an expat, piece by piece, word by word, moment by moment. I gained that expat confidence.

You can rebuild yourself as an expat, too

I know there are expats out there feeling exactly like I did. 

Like a toddler, frustrated and helpless. Like a cavewoman, grunting their way through daily life. Like a shadow of the person they used to be.

But listen to me:

You can get through this. You can rebuild yourself as an expat. You can find your expat confidence, independence, and identity again.

I’ve done it. I’ve helped hundreds of expats do it. And I can help you too.

If you’re struggling—whether as an individual, as a couple, or as an employee trying to make it work in a foreign country, building your expat life—let’s talk.

You don’t have to figure it out alone when your rebuilding yourself as an expat. You don’t have to stay stuck. 

Book a session with me, and let’s take the first step together. Because no matter how lost you feel right now, you can find your way back.

And as for me? In just a few days, I’ll be standing on that stage, sharing this story with the world—shaky hands, racing heart, and all. 

What happens next? You’ll have to wait for the next blog to find out. Let’s just say… rebuilding yourself as an expat doesn’t stop when you reclaim your voice. Sometimes, it leads you to places you never imagined.

Find out more about my methods and approach as an expat psychologist here.

Do you want to know more about on how to overcome Limiting Beliefs of life abroad? Check my Workshop here

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