Moving to Australia Regret A Personal Reflection on Whether It Was a Mistake

It seems I made a mistake, perhaps a rather serious one. Because, perhaps, for the last year I have lived with the confidence that I have decided on my future. Australia, or more precisely, Sydney. I have built a life here that I truly love. I'm dating a New Zealander, and in my imagination, Australia is where we'll stay for a long time. But in the summer I returned to England for a few weeks, and suddenly everything became less clear. Which is actually really annoying, because I thought I had already dealt with this existential crisis. So a short excursion if this is your first time here. I have been living in Sydney since November 2025. I have just started the third year of my Australian Work and Holiday Visa and have long considered Australia

as my long-term home. It's ironic, because for years before that, London had been my dream. I spent most of my 20s traveling the world, but England has always been my home base. And in the end, I acted like a real adult-I bought my own apartment in London. At the time, it seemed like a huge achievement. I lived out of a backpack for years, traveling, working online, and never knowing where I would end up tomorrow. And suddenly I had an apartment in London. I remember thinking, "I did it. This is my home. This is where I will build my life." But in reality, I became very unhappy living there. The problem was the lifestyle I led there. I worked for myself, from home, and lived alone. So I could easily wake up in the morning, work all day

in the apartment, cook dinner, go to bed, and barely talk to anyone. I had friends in London, but London is huge. When they say someone lives in London, it could still be an hour's drive from you. Try texting someone at six: " Want to come over for dinner?" Because " taking a look" is two trains, a subway, and over an hour of your time. Besides, most of my old friends, school buddies, don't live in London at all. They live in Surrey, where I grew up and where my parents live. So seeing them was even less spontaneous. It always required careful planning: finding a free weekend for everyone, writing in a diary, catching a train from London, maybe staying overnight. And in the end, London seemed to me an

incredibly lonely place. I had this apartment that I worked really hard to buy. I have technically achieved the life I imagined. And yet, most days I sat alone in that apartment and wondered: is this really all? And I think that goes a long way to explaining why Australia seemed so wonderful to me when I first arrived here. So when I flew back to the UK a few weeks ago, I honestly thought it would only confirm my decision to move to Australia. Instead, I began to question everything. One of the things I realized during this trip was how complicated my life between two countries had become. After all, although I now spend most of my time in Australia, I still own property in England.

I have bank accounts in both countries. I get paid in different currencies. And I'm constantly transferring money back and forth. What no one talks about when you live abroad is that you're not only sharing your life emotionally, you're also sharing it financially. I have money coming in to Australia and bills being paid in the UK, so I'm constantly transferring funds between the two. In fact, I'm going to do another translation this morning, which is a great opportunity to answer one of the questions I get

asked most often. How do I manage my money? And, more specifically, how do I transfer my money? So, I have a lot of bank accounts that I get paid into. But the simple solution for international transfers that I use is Wise. I have been using Wise for many years. Your bank may want you to think they are good at international transfers and will assure you that there are no transfer fees. But this is misleading, and to prove it, I'll do an experiment: see how many pounds sterling I get by sending 200 Australian dollars to my UK account via Wise, compared to my regular Australian bank. My regular Australian bank said the transfer fee had been waived.

Oh, great. So I can expect 105 pounds 90 pence, which would be the mid-market rate for $200, right? Error. They show me that I will get 102 pounds 44 pence because they are inflating the exchange rate. So now I'm going to make the actual transfer, sending $200 to the same bank account in the UK, only this time through Wise. Wise clearly states the transfer fee-just 70 cents for this transaction-and uses the real mid-market exchange rate. You can check it yourself. So, I can clearly see that I am sending the expected amount of 105 pounds 50 pence. That's £3 more than if I sent it through my regular Australian bank with their fees waived. You can imagine the difference if it was an even larger transaction amount. You can also share

transaction details with the recipient in Wise so they know the money is on its way, and even get email updates so you don't have to deal with it yourself. That's why I use Wise when I pay back debts to friends or family or pay for entertainment or accommodation abroad where bank transfers are accepted. If it's a large amount, this will be the most cost-effective way to do it. Transfers are usually fast. There are definitely no hidden extras here. You can learn more at the link in my description and see current offers, for example, for new Wise users- first transfer without commission up to 1000 AUD. If you need to pay a friend, repay a debt to your parents, or pay for a tour in another currency, you

now know how to do it. Be smart, choose Wise. But back to the identity crisis, because this trip home turned out to be nothing like I expected. My London apartment is currently occupied by long-term tenants. So when I came back this summer, I didn't stay in my apartment. I stayed with my parents in Surrey. Which, it would seem shouldn't cause any serious reflections about your entire life. But, oddly enough, I think that was one of the reasons why this trip had such an impact on me. Because suddenly I found myself a 5- minute drive away from people I've known since my teens.

All my school friends, with whom I used to have to plan meetings in advance, were just there. Of course, we planned to meet up because I came home. People knew I was only back for a few weeks, so we organized dinners, plans, and serious get-togethers. But there were also many spontaneous meetings. Or I would be aware that someone was nearby and we would just go for coffee. There were people I saw repeatedly during my trip without even planning to. And I remember thinking, "Oh my God, this is exactly what I've been missing." Because I didn't have that when I lived in London. Which sounds absurd, because Surrey has always been there. My friends were always there. But from my flat in London they just weren't part of my everyday life.

Instead, I suddenly found myself at the center of this community I had known almost my entire life, and I loved it. I really, really liked it. There was another rather important factor that I should mention here. The weather was incredible. Even suspiciously beautiful. The heat continued in the UK, and the sun shone brightly every day. And I am a real fan of the sun. Give me blue skies and warmth, and everything around seems like the best place on earth. I was outside all the time. We sat in gardens, went for walks. Everyone was in a great mood. I even went hiking up north. There were moments when I was driving through the English countryside, the sun was shining, everything looked so beautiful, and I honestly thought: why did I ever want to

leave here? That's why I have to ask myself: have I been looking at Great Britain through rose-colored glasses? Because I got an exceptionally good version of England. I actually have a very useful comparison, because I was returning to Britain earlier this year, in January. During that trip I went skiing in Europe, which I really enjoyed, but the part of the trip in Britain itself was just not bad. I liked seeing friends. I liked seeing my family. But I dreamed of returning to Sydney sooner. I remember how much I wanted to go. I was counting down the days. And this time everything was exactly the opposite. As soon as I arrived

in Britain, knowing I would be there for 3 weeks, I thought: this won't be enough. So, now I think it was largely due to the weather. Summer in England, when the weather is really nice, is truly wonderful. So maybe my midlife crisis was brought on by about three weeks of British sunshine. Which would be pretty funny. This is where I have to be very careful, because coming home for a few weeks is not the same as moving permanently. Of course, I saw a lot of people. I am temporarily back from Australia.

People made an effort. I made an I didn't have the same amount of normal daily responsibilities. I was incredibly lucky with the weather. If I moved to England permanently, it wouldn't be my life every week. My friends have jobs, partners, they're already having children, they have their own routines. People won't build their lives around Christian coming back because Christian would just be local. And then summer finally turns to November, and you're scraping ice off your car in the dark at 4 a.m., wondering why you made such an important decision because of a particularly beautiful July. So I am well aware of that. And most importantly-if I had actually returned to my apartment in London, I wouldn't even

have the lifestyle I enjoyed on this trip. I would be in London again. My friends would still be in Surrey. I would still work for myself. I would probably still work from home. And if I hadn't consciously created a completely different life for myself, I could have found myself back in the same situation that made me unhappy from the start. So I don't think the takeaway from this trip is, "Oh, it turns out I love London and I need to go back." Because in reality, everything was completely different. But there was one moment on this trip when I realized that something had changed. Something changed inside me. Because I actually went to the UK for a specific purpose. I still have a lot of stuff in England, or rather in

my parents' attic, and they're not happy about it. And before this trip, I decided: okay, Australia is clearly becoming my home for a long time. I should start moving my life there. So I was going to go back to England, go through all my stuff, decide what I really wanted to keep, get rid of the unnecessary stuff, and ship everything I needed to Australia. Make this long-distance sea transportation in large boxes. Very practical, very sensible, makes perfect sense. Very discreet. But when it came down to it, I couldn't do it. I just couldn't bring myself to pack everything up and send it. And this surprised me a lot, because before the trip I was determined to

do this. And logically, why not? I don't use them anyway while they're lying around in England. I live on the other side of the world. But the packaging of these boxes seemed strangely symbolic. It did n't look like sending my stuff. It felt like I was taking my life apart here. It's like I'm officially saying, "Okay, England is no longer my home." I'm closing this section. "Everything important goes with me." And my intuitive reaction was "no." That was the first moment I thought, "Oh, I guess I'm not as confident in this as I thought." And since then I've thought about it a lot. And it seems I finally understood what I was missing.

She says, "I guess I'll change my mind in a year." But we won't talk about that now. I don't think I miss London. I think I miss the community. I guess I'm missing intimacy. I lack spontaneity. And I miss my people. There is a huge difference between having friends and having friends around. When I lived in London, I technically had a lot of people in my life. But that's not the same as knowing that someone lives five minutes away. It's not the same as popping in for a cup of tea or just going for a walk together. And that's exactly what I felt when I visited my parents this summer. I didn't even realize how much I missed it. Especially because living

abroad makes relationships with people at home so balanced. When you live on the other side of the planet, you don't just see each other. You arrange a call, plan a trip, and may fly twenty- something hours to see each other. There's no casualness here, no "oh, I 'll see you next week anyway." And I probably underestimated how valuable it was to me. Because I work for myself. I do n't have an office full of colleagues that I see every day. I need social connections to exist outside of work. And when I lived alone in London, I missed that. And this summer I suddenly had enough of it. And I was really happy. So it's almost certainly not

England that I fell in love with again. Maybe it was just the feeling of being among my people. The problem is that I returned to Sydney and immediately remembered how much I love this city. I don't want to go. This lifestyle suits me perfectly. I constantly spend time outside. I live near the ocean. The weather here is incredible. Today is the second day of spring, and it's 27 degrees outside. I can go swimming. I can walk along the coast. I can get on my scooter and suddenly find myself in a completely different place. There are so many adventures built into ordinary life here, and it seems that's what I've always had trouble with when trying to build an ordinary life. I'm happiest when life feels a little adventurous. It's not

necessary to travel all the time, but to feel that Sydney gives me that, and I've built a life here too. I have Ben. I have friends. I have my own habits. There is a cafe where we are recognized. There are areas that feel familiar. There are places I keep returning to. Even with our somewhat strange lives in other people's homes, Sydney has become incredibly familiar to me. It's like home. So I didn't come back from England thinking, "Oh, Australia was a mistake." "I'm a star, get me out of here

." Everything is completely the opposite. I came back here thinking, "God, how I love my life." Which, actually, doesn't really help at all. But the more I thought about it, and hear me out, the more I started asking myself, "Is this the wrong question I'm asking myself?" I used to think of it as Australia versus England. Which of these do I choose? But maybe this isn't the decision I need to make. Because the things I love about Australia aren't necessarily the things I don't like about England. And what I really miss about England isn't necessarily what Australia can never give me. The real difference is the life I built in each of these places. Because if I could have the lifestyle I love in Australia while building that sense of closeness and

community here, would I question everything? I honestly don't know. And while I was in England, my brain came up with another, third option. What if I bought another house in Surrey? Not in London, somewhere near my parents and school friends, with a garden and, most importantly, with my absolute dream-an in- ground trampoline. Then I could spend the months of my European summer there, see everyone properly, enjoy the good weather, take short trips around Europe, and return to Australia when it gets cold and gloomy again. In my head, it's perfect. In practice, several problems arise. What would I do with the house for the other 9 months of the year?

Could I rent it out for a short term or just part of the year? Would it actually be easy, or would I just be creating a very expensive logistical nightmare for myself? And then there's my partner. Because technically I can do it myself. I work remotely. There's little that can stop me from spending a few months a year somewhere else. And this freedom, independence, and flexibility-this is something I've practiced throughout my twenties, and I've kind of gotten used to it. But I'm not alone anymore. I'm in a very happy relationship with someone I see a future with, and that's very, very important to me. So my life plans are no longer just about what suits me.

What if Ben has a job that keeps him in Australia? What will happen when we become more settled and have more responsibility? Can I really continue to fly around the world like a butterfly forever? I've spent most of my adult life building a career that gives me this freedom, right? I'm not sure I want to just give it up, and I don't feel like I have to just because I'm getting older and life is getting more serious. I don't know exactly what it will look like yet, but I know I'm not ready to stop building my life around the possibility of living in multiple places. So where did I really end up? Unfortunately,

I didn't come to anything definitive. I'm not moving back to England. I love my life in Sydney and still consider Australia a huge part of my life. But I also don't want to see this as a decision that completely closes the door on England. Never say never. This trip reminded me how important it is to have community, family, and old friends around. And she also made me realize that I still really appreciate the freedom I've invested in my life. So, instead of forcing myself to choose one country and tie myself to it forever, I think I just need to let the next few years clarify things a bit. A dream house in Surrey and a dug-in trampoline can remain on the wishlist for now. Do I think I made a mistake by moving to Australia? No, I do n't think so. Moving

here has shown me that how I structure my daily life affects my happiness. But the mistake I made was assuming that loving life here meant I had outgrown my life at home, which is clearly not the case. Maybe I don't really need to choose between Australia and England right now. Maybe I can have a base here, spend part of the year in the UK and see what it looks like as my life and Ben's life change. Maybe a house in Surrey with a trampoline built into it will appear someday. Or maybe not. Maybe 3 months of European summer every year-that's completely unrealistic. Or maybe I've lived an unconventional life for so long that I shouldn't

automatically assume that I should now start doing things the usual way. I honestly don't know, and to be honest, I'm not even asking for advice because I don't think anyone can give me sound advice on this matter. What I would like to know is, if you have moved to another country, have you ever stopped feeling the attraction to your home country? Or is it something that always stays with you, and something you just come to terms with when you move to another country? That's what I would really like to know. I know for sure that I'm not moving back to England, leaving Sydney, and moving my whole life here just yet. Now I'm perfectly happy to leave a few doors open, because every time I was absolutely sure I knew what the next 5 years of my

life would look like, I was wrong. So maybe I should just stop trying to predict and see where this all leads. I hope you enjoyed this video where I just pour out my thoughts on this whole situation. As you may have noticed, I'm having a hard time rationalizing all of this. It's quite difficult for me to come to any conclusions. As someone who usually likes to know what they are doing and likes clear answers. It annoys me a little, but I'm trying to learn to ignore it and just let the situation go. Be sure to subscribe if you want to know what will eventually happen in my life, because I will always keep you updated, and I'll see you in the next video.

See you later.