Moving abroad is often depicted as an adventure—new languages, new foods, new friends, and so many opportunities. And why wouldn't it? The photographs on social media show the sun-drenched piazzas, the lively markets, the innovative workplaces, and the thrilling sense of adventure that comes with travelling. Yet for many expats, behind the carefully curated snapshots is another, quieter story, one that revolves around loneliness, isolation, and the struggle to feel truly at home.
As a psychotherapist, I meet people every day who have taken bold steps to live and work abroad. They arrive full of ambition and optimism, but somewhere along the way, an invisible cloak begins to weigh. This weight is the emotional toll of disconnection. It is not always easy to name at first. People say things like: “I should be happier here. I have everything I could possibly have asked for. I just don't understand why I feel so flat. I'm not acting like myself”. In essence, what they're really describing is loneliness.
Loneliness is not the same as being alone
It is worth stating clearly: loneliness is not simply the absence of people. Many expats are surrounded by colleagues, classmates, or flatmates on a daily basis. Yet they still feel profoundly isolated. Why? Because loneliness, of course, is about the quality of the connections you make as opposed to the quantity. Now more than ever, in the digital media age, it is worth making this distinction.
Homelife
Back home, friendships and family ties are intricately woven into the fabric of everyday life. A quick cup of tea with a sibling has a cosy reassurance. A chat with the neighbour who's been there since you moved in gives rise to a spontaneous joke to lift the mood.
A night out with friends you've known since childhood can rekindle a sense of belonging and ease. Long periods can elapse without as much as a text, but when the connection is reestablished, it feels natural and brings instantaneous relief. These interactions are the invisible anchors that keep us grounded. When you move abroad, those anchors are cut loose. Even if you make new friends quickly, it takes a while before they can carry the same depth, history or unspoken understanding. There's something so magical about talking to someone who understands you innately without any questions, who's from the same place and has the same cultural references as you. You don't have to do any explaining!
The silent symptoms of expat loneliness
Loneliness rarely announces itself with a fanfare; it creeps in quietly, often disguised as tiredness, irritability, or a vague sense of not belonging. For expats, it can take many subtle forms. Sunday evenings, without the comfort of family dinners or familiar routines, can feel especially heavy, the week ahead stretching out with a certain emptiness. Over time, you might find yourself sharing less, the small details of daily life feeling too hard to explain to those back home who aren't there to witness them. Doubt can also creep in: a quiet question of whether the move was the right choice, even when everything looks fine on paper. And beneath it all, your confidence may falter. Speaking a second language, navigating unfamiliar systems, or constantly adapting can leave you feeling smaller, more dependent, and less self-assured than you'd like.
Why it matters
Chronic loneliness isn't just about being ‘a bit sad.' Research shows it is linked to stress, anxiety, depression, sleep disruption, and even physical health issues like lowered immunity, and I see this every day in my online practice. For expats, this can create a dangerous cycle: feeling lonely makes it harder to reach out, and not reaching out deepens the loneliness. I see this self-perpetuating loop all the time with my clients when they probably need to be at their most sociable to survive, they don't have the mental fortitude to make it happen.
What helps
The good news is that loneliness is not a life sentence. With gentle awareness and some intentional steps, I have helped countless expats to rebuild meaningful connections and restore the balance missing in their lives. Whilst it is not possible to cover every single therapeutic approach, here are some easy steps that can be made to get back your ‘old' sense of self.
Trigger awareness
For many expats, loneliness doesn't strike at random; it tends to follow patterns. Take note of when and where it surfaces: quiet weekends, long holidays, or those post-scroll moments when social media highlights what you're missing out on. By keeping a gentle log of these triggers, you begin to see that some are external, like social isolation or distance from familiar faces, while others are internal, shaped by thoughts and emotions that arise in reflective moments. Reviewing these patterns weekly helps you to anticipate when you're most vulnerable. Over time, you can use this growing awareness to prepare healthier coping responses — planning connection, routine, or self-care around the times and places that most often stir that sense of disconnection.
Interpersonal
When it comes to easing loneliness abroad, seek depth, not breadth. One genuine friendship will always bring more comfort than a handful of surface-level connections. Focus on spaces where deeper bonds can naturally take root — community groups, language exchanges, or volunteering opportunities often attract others navigating the same challenges. Just as important is your living environment: make sure it feels safe, supportive, and nurturing, with small touches that lift your mood — natural light, familiar objects, or cosy corners that help you feel grounded. And remember, talking it through matters. Whether it's with a counsellor, a trusted old friend, or someone new, creating a safe space to untangle the emotional knots of isolation can be profoundly healing. Sometimes, simply being truly heard is the first step towards feeling at home again.
Emotional
Emotional expression is a powerful antidote to loneliness. Naming and giving voice to your feelings validates your experience and brings relief from the quiet weight of isolation. Try journalling, recording voice notes, or channelling your emotions through art or music — whatever helps you express what words can't always capture. As a musician myself, I find this kind of creative release enormously self-soothing. It's also worth exploring what might lie beneath the surface of loneliness: unprocessed grief, a sense of shame, or the fear of being out of your comfort zone. And above all, normalise these emotions. Step away from the idea that difficult feelings are something to fix; they're part of being human. Loneliness isn't a flaw — it's a universal signal for connection, one that every person experiences in some form at some time in their life.
Cognitive
Start by naming it. Simply saying “I'm lonely” takes real courage, but doing so immediately softens the shame that often surrounds it. It reframes loneliness not as a personal failure, but as a basic human need. Bring it out into the light; in doing so, you take away much of its power over you. From there, begin to challenge the unhelpful thought patterns that can deepen isolation — beliefs like “I'm unlovable” or “Nobody cares.” Try to see loneliness as a prompt to act, to reach out, to reconnect. You might also find comfort in short coping statements or mantras such as “I am worthy of connection,” “This feeling will pass,” or “I can reach out whenever I want.” Small, steady reminders like these can help you move through moments of disconnection with greater self-compassion and resilience.
Images
Imagery rescripting can be a powerful tool in easing loneliness. When isolating or painful images arise- perhaps scenes of rejection or being left out — try to consciously replace them with compassionate or hopeful ones. Visualise yourself surrounded by warmth and understanding: a supportive friend's presence, a comforting place that feels safe, or a cherished memory of feeling loved. These positive images can help shift your emotional state and remind you that attachment and belonging are part of your lived experience. When intrusive images return, gently ground yourself in the present moment and the real evidence of being valued — the people who care, the moments you've shared, and the friendships you continue to build.
Lifestyle
Keep your rituals alive. If you always went for a walk and coffee at a certain time each week back home, try recreating a version of that in your new surroundings. Small routines can act as anchors, providing a sense of stability when everything else feels unfamiliar, and routine itself can be a quiet antidote to anxiety. Make time for sunlight too; being outdoors in natural light helps lift mood and ease low feelings. Alongside that, support your emotional well-being through the “usuals”: regular exercise you genuinely enjoy, balanced meals rich in omega-3s, good hydration, and limiting alcohol, which can intensify feelings of loneliness. Prioritise quality sleep to help regulate mood and build resilience by incorporating simple mindfulness or meditation practices to stay grounded in the present moment. Finally, step back from excessive screen time and reconnect with offline pleasures- cooking, reading, music, or creative hobbies that nourish rather than numb.
For expats reading this now
For expats reading this now and recognising yourself in some of these words, know this: you are not broken and you are not alone in feeling this way. Let me tell you a story that perhaps encapsulates the quiet desperation and confusion of expat loneliness.
Recently, a client of mine, who kindly allowed me to share this, told me about her journey home from work. It should have been ordinary, unremarkable. But as is often the case when we are stretched thin, life had other ideas. Due to the aftermath of a storm, there were train cancellations, confusion about which platform to use, and a series of replacement buses. Halfway home, the service stopped again. Her phone battery was nearly gone, and she was in the midst of trying to submit a job application for a job back home, with the network cutting in and out as she passed through tunnels. She was in a race to take the last work meeting of the day from home, and in her haste, she tripped over a kerb, fell hard, and gashed her leg. Her phone hit the pavement, screen cracked. When she finally made it onto the train, she sat down, sweating, panting, blood pouring from her leg. And then from somewhere close by, she heard an elderly man speaking in her own country's accent. That soft, familiar lilt just stopped her in her tracks. She told me, “You know what, I just wanted to hug him and be held.”
In that moment, she felt overwhelmed by lots of emotions, frustration, misunderstanding, loneliness, and the desire to go home, while knowing that home no longer exists in the same way it once did; caught somewhere between two worlds, belonging fully to neither.
A humanistic view
As a therapist, I believe loneliness is not just a ‘problem to be fixed' but also a reminder of our deep need for belonging and love. In humanistic therapy, we see loneliness as an invitation to listen to yourself. What is missing? What are you yearning for? Often, the sensation of loneliness is pointing towards something profoundly human: the need to be seen, valued and accepted.
Final thought
Loneliness is one of the most common and least spoken-about struggles expats face. Talking about it isn't a weakness; it's a courageous step towards healing. Life abroad will always hold both light and shadow, the adventure and the ache. Loneliness may be part of your story, but it doesn't have to define it. With the right support, you can rediscover connection, belonging and that quiet sense of home that lives not in a place, but in the people and understanding that you create around you.
