Feeling the Expat Guilt: Let’s Change the Narrative

Written by: Mette Theilmann, Narrative Therapist & Parenting Consultant

When I first decided to move abroad, I never imagined the quiet companion that would tag along on the journey – growing stronger at certain periods of my life: expat guilt.

WHAT’S EXPAT GUILT?

Expat guilt is the emotional weight many of us carry when we choose to build a life abroad. It’s the uneasy tug between the joy of our new experiences and the sadness of what we’ve left behind. It often shows up as a quiet voice that questions whether we’ve made the right choice – for ourselves, for our children, for our parents, our friendships, or even our careers.

Expat guilt is not just about missing events or traditions; it’s the deeper worry that we are letting someone down by not being physically present – whether that’s our children, our parents, or the wider family “back home.”

It is the pang in our hearts when we see a photo of yet another family event we have missed.

IT COMES IN LIFE STAGES

Expat guilt doesn’t stay still; it shifts as our lives change.

When our children are small, it whispers: Am I raising them right? Will they know my language, my culture, the traditions of my home country? They may miss out on the culture we grew up in or the simple rituals of checking in with grandparents. I have been there.

In midlife, the guilt stretches toward our grown-up children, tugging at our hearts in ways we never expected. There is the ache of choosing to live far from the place where we raised them, and sometimes even the unspoken question: “Are you leaving us to go and live on the Côte d’Azur?” The weight of not being there for them 24/7, as we once were, adds a new layer to the story – that they cannot just drop in for a Sunday roast and a chat. I am in that space right there.

As our parents age, guilt takes another form: Am I being selfish living so far away? Who will sit with them, check in daily, help them with the small things that matter so much? And when we hear news that a parent isn’t well, the sting of knowing we can’t be there within the hour can feel overwhelming. I am in that space right there.

Friendships that stay or fade: Over the years, I’ve lost friendships and groups because some people could not – or would not – be part of my nomadic lifestyle, moving from one country to another. And yes, that can hurt. But here’s the thing: in letting go, I’ve also gained so many strong, beautiful bonds with incredible people along the way.

My dearest friends have accepted my lifestyle. We check in regularly, we visit each other often, and most importantly – they never make me feel guilty. They will stay in my life no matter where I live.

And I truly believe this: if people cannot accept or respect your life, they probably wouldn’t have stayed even if you had never left “home.” So, accept what is. Treasure
the friendships that grow with you and release the ones that cannot. Both choices
create space for what’s meant to stay.

No matter how it comes to you, it is real.

THE TRUTH ABOUT EXPAT GUILT

This guilt is real, and it is shared by so many of us, yet it is rarely spoken about openly. We tend to tuck it away, as though acknowledging it makes us less grateful for the lives we’ve chosen or that we have done something wrong – that we are being selfish. But gratitude and guilt can sit side by side. We can love the life we’ve built while also mourning the moments we miss.

LEARNING TO LIVE WITH IT

As a Narrative Therapist, I’d like to remind you: guilt doesn’t have to be “fixed” or “eliminated.” It is part of the story of living between worlds. Instead of fighting it, we can find ways to live alongside it, so it doesn’t drown out the joy of where we are.

Here are a few gentle ways to manage expat guilt in all its forms:

Name it out loud. Guilt thrives in silence. The moment you give it words – whether in a journal, in a conversation with a trusted friend, or in a group – it begins to lose its power. Often, what feels unbearable inside our own heads becomes lighter when spoken aloud. Talking with fellow expats who “get it” helps us realise we are not alone. One of the gentlest ways to loosen guilt’s grip is through simple conversation.

Create rituals of connection. Distance does not mean disconnection. Simple, intentional rituals – a Sunday video call, a family WhatsApp group, a rotating photo album, or even the lost art of writing letters – can anchor you to the people you miss most. You might even try a weekly “family chat” where children, grandparents, and relatives drop in together. In our group, one amazing woman creates a monthly
newsletter with words and pictures of her life – a perfect way to share without every
conversation starting with “what’s new?”

Accept “enough.” Part of guilt is the endless whisper that we should be doing more. But we cannot be in two places at once. Accepting “enough” means trusting that the love you give – though shaped differently by distance – is still valuable and real. Sending a card, remembering a birthday, or listening deeply during a call may not feel grand, but it matters. Sometimes, enough is exactly what’s needed.

Hold both truths. Life abroad is often painted in extremes: either glamorous and enviable, or selfish and detached. But reality is more complex. You can be deeply
grateful for the sunshine, friendships, and opportunities of expat life while also
grieving the moments you miss back home. These truths are not opposites – they are
companions. Allow yourself to hold them both without judgment. Cry if you need
to, but don’t let the guilt pull you down in silence.

When it comes to adult children. Perhaps the hardest guilt of all is around the children we once devoted our every hour to, who are now grown and navigating adulthood without us at arm’s length. I can certainly relate to this right now, with three adult children aged 22, 25, and 28.

Remember: they are adults. You’ve already done the hard work of raising them, and you did it well. Now it is time to also look after yourself. For the moment, that means living your life fully. Staying connected through Zoom calls, letters, care parcels, or inviting them to visit, can strengthen the bond in new ways. You are not abandoning them. You are allowing yourself – and them – to step into the next chapter of life.

What if we turned the story around? Instead of guilt saying, “I’m not there enough,” it could sound more like this: “I trust you so deeply that I know you don’t need me around all the time. I trust your independence and your journey.”

Living apart can be reimagined as an affirmation of the strength we’ve already nurtured in our children. Distance becomes a gesture of confidence in who they are becoming, not a failure in who we are as parents. Trust yourself. Trust your children.

A gentle reminder: guilt shows us that we care. It is a reflection of our love, not a measure of our failure. But love does not ask us to carry guilt as a lifelong burden. Instead, it invites us to stay connected in ways that are possible, to be present where
we are, and to trust that our choices – even with their imperfections – are still rooted in
love.

A SHARED JOURNEY

The beauty of living abroad is that none of us walk this path alone. Every expat carries
their own story of sacrifice and gain, loss and discovery. When we share these stories with each other, we don’t erase the guilt, but we weave a stronger net of support around ourselves.

Perhaps the most healing reminder of all is this: expat guilt is not a sign of failure or of having made a bad choice. It is a reflection of deep love – love for the people we’ve left behind, love for the children we are raising (and the ones we’ve already raised), and love for the lives we are building across borders. And love, even when tangled with guilt, is a powerful guide.