“If Trump wins this election, I’m moving out of the country.”
I said those words in November 2016. So did a lot of other Americans: so many, in fact, that Canada’s immigration website crashed as votes were being tallied due to increased traffic. No joke.
I don’t know how many others followed through on that declaration, but I did. Trump won the election, and 9 months later, I left the US.
Full disclosure: Trump becoming president was not the reason I actually left — it was mostly about being fed up with my corporate job, coupled with a strong desire to explore the world.
I was 37, single, with no children or pets, so I was free to quit my job, uproot myself, and take off. I did own a house at the time, which I sold a few months after I left.
Upon my departure, I didn’t have much of a plan other than the intention to spend some time slowly exploring Asia and teaching English when I needed to make money. This no-plan thing was out of character for me, but I was very comfortable with solo international travel, thanks to previous study abroad experiences and 14 years of intensive overseas work-related travel.
The move opened a new chapter in my life
As months unfolded, I discovered that when you leave space for it, life guides you to the places, people, and opportunities that are meant for you.
Seven years later, I’m still living happily outside the US. While my decision to leave opened up a horizon of experiences beyond my wildest dreams and led me to the man of my dreams, it hasn’t all been a bed of roses.
The first year, I lived off savings while traveling slowly through Asia. I started my travels in India, where I spent 10 days at a silent meditation retreat, attended teachings by the Dalai Lama, and took a yoga teacher training. I promptly got hooked on teaching yoga.
After four months in India, I continued making my way through Asia for eight more months. I swam in the crystal clear waters of the Maldives, visited healers in Bali, witnessed breathtaking sunrise views from mountaintops in Laos, went island-hopped through the Philippines, rode motorbikes around Thailand’s islands, and discovered ancient pagodas in Myanmar
The cost of living in much of Asia is so low that savings can stretch a long way. I have high standards for my accommodations, and while traveling, I usually spent around $20 to $25 per night on hotels. Lower-maintenance friends of mine found simpler places for $6 per night in India. Meals usually cost around $3. After six weeks in India, I considered a lunch bill of $5 to be expensive.
There have been times along the way when I’ve felt lost
From time to time, I experienced stretches of feeling unsettled and lacking a sense of purpose.
Over the years, I learned that those periods of doubt and uncertainty will continue to surface. But I also learned to just keep trusting, and the way forward would eventually reveal itself.
People often ask me if I was ever afraid while traveling alone through Asia. I never was — except a couple of times in India when riding on some precariously high Himalayan roads with no guardrails. But of people? I never had a reason to be.
After a year away, I found an opportunity to teach yoga in a small mountain town in Myanmar. Life there was quiet, simple, and beautiful. I lived there for 9 months, and I was profoundly happy most of the time. But there were times I felt lonely.
The locals were sweet and kind, with love in their eyes and actions, but I missed friends who spoke my language fluently, with whom I could have deep conversations over a glass of wine. And the dating scene? Nonexistent.
I found love during my travels
Another yoga teaching opportunity took me to Siem Reap, Cambodia. Siem Reap is not a big city, but after my small-town Myanmar life, it felt like Manhattan. There were so many restaurants, bars, social events, friends, and even some attractive single men.
I fell in love with the town, the quality of life, and the locals. It was easy to get a tourist or work visa to live here long term, and it was almost as inexpensive as India and Myanmar.
I was living in Siem Reap when COVID-19 hit. By that time, I was in a long-distance relationship with a French man I met during my travels. After the closed borders of the pandemic kept us apart for 7 months, I moved to France to be with him.
Our story was long and winding, but it felt like destiny. He loves global travel like I do. We’ve been together for four years and are living together in Papua New Guinea. Our plan is to go back to a nomadic slow-travel lifestyle. My career has gradually evolved to encompass creative pursuits that light me up inside: retreats, writing, photography, and yoga.
I am deeply grateful to my former self for choosing to leave the US. I sometimes miss family and friends, but thanks to technology, our connection stays alive across the distance, and I go back to visit once a year.
I still love America and feel lucky to have been born and raised there. But there’s a big world out there waiting to be discovered.
Do you have a personal essay about relocating to Asia that you want to share? Get in touch with the editor at [email protected].
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