Living in Limbo: The In-Between Space of Moving Abroad

There’s a moment many people don’t expect when they move country.

It doesn’t happen on arrival day, or even in those first exciting weeks. It comes later—quietly, almost unnoticed at first.

You go “home”… and something feels different.
Familiar, but slightly off.
Like you no longer fit in quite the same way.

But where you live now doesn’t fully feel like yours either.

And so you find yourself in between.

Between languages.
Between cultures.
Between versions of yourself.

It can feel unsettling. Like you’re floating slightly outside of everything—never fully grounded in one place.

This is the part we call living in limbo.

The Language Barrier: Frustration and Breakthrough

For many people moving to northern Spain, language is where this feeling shows up most strongly.

Even if you arrive with some Spanish, real life is different.
Appointments, paperwork, fast conversations, humour—it can all feel just out of reach.

At first, it’s exhausting.
You’re listening harder than you ever have.
Second-guessing everything.
Sometimes avoiding situations altogether because it just feels like too much.

And it can reinforce that feeling of being “on the outside”.

But then, something shifts.

You understand a joke.
You handle a phone call.
You follow a conversation without translating every word in your head.

And slowly, the same thing that once felt like a barrier…
starts to become a bridge.

Because language isn’t just about communication—it’s access.

Access to conversations.
To friendships.
To the everyday rhythm of life around you.

Finding Your Place Through People

One of the hardest parts of moving abroad is rebuilding your sense of belonging.

Back “home”, connection was easy. It was built into your life—through work, school, shared history.

In a new country, you start again.

At first, it can feel lonely. Surface-level. Temporary.

But as your confidence grows—especially with language—so does your world.

You start to recognise people.
Conversations become easier.
You get invited for coffee, then lunch, then into someone’s home.

And these connections often feel different.
More intentional. More meaningful.

Because they’re chosen, not assumed.

Discovering a New Culture (and Letting It Change You)

Living in northern Spain, in places like Cantabria or Santander, daily life brings constant small discoveries.

How people spend time.
The importance of family.
The rhythm of meals.
The value placed on slowing down.

At first, these differences can feel confusing—even frustrating.

Things don’t work the way you expect.
Life doesn’t move at the same pace.

But over time, something deeper happens.

You stop comparing.
You start observing.
And eventually, you begin to adopt.

And in doing so, your perspective shifts.

You realise there isn’t just one “right” way to live—
only different ways.

And that realisation is incredibly enriching.

The Identity Shift: Who Are You Now?

Perhaps the most unexpected part of moving abroad is how much it changes you.

When you leave your home country, you also leave behind a version of yourself—
the one shaped by familiarity, routine, and other people’s expectations.

In a new place, those reference points disappear.

And that can feel unsettling.

Who are you, when no one knows your past?
When you’re not defined by your old job, your usual circles, your history?

But within that uncertainty… there is freedom.

Freedom to choose how you live.
Who you spend time with.
What really matters to you.

You begin to rebuild—not just your life, but your identity.

More consciously this time.

More intentionally.

When Limbo Becomes Home

Living in limbo isn’t a phase you rush through.

It’s something you move with.

And slowly—almost without realising—you begin to feel more grounded.

You have your places.
Your routines.
Your people.

You switch between languages without thinking.
You navigate life with more ease.

And one day, it hits you:

You’re no longer between two lives.

You’ve created a new one.

Not tied to just one place,
but shaped by many.

And that in-between space that once felt uncomfortable…

has quietly become its own kind of home.