It’s been 10 years since I moved from Melbourne to Southeast Asia—here’s what I’ve gained, lost, and learned.

It’s been 10 years since I packed up my life in Melbourne and moved halfway across the world to Southeast Asia. It still feels surreal when I think about it—I remember that nervous energy bubbling in my chest as I boarded the plane, unsure of what was waiting on the other side.

A decade later, I’ve realized that while there’s a lot I left behind, I’ve also gained more than I ever expected. And the lessons? They’re priceless.

Today, I share them with you. If you are thinking of a move, my experience might just help you to make up your mind. 

Why I took the leap in the first place

I grew up in a city known for its coffee culture, unpredictable weather, and laid-back Aussie vibe. Melbourne will always be a special place for me, but deep down, I felt like there was more to see. I craved fresh challenges, new perspectives, and a change of scenery that could shake me out of the safe routines I’d fallen into.

When I first told my friends and family that I was planning to move, I got a mixed bag of reactions—everything from excitement to genuine worry. Some people cheered me on, others were convinced I was throwing away stability. 

In truth, part of me also wondered if I was making the biggest mistake of my life. But I figured I wouldn’t know unless I actually did it.

The chance to reinvent myself

One of the first things I noticed after arriving was how being in a new environment makes it easier to reevaluate who you really are. In Melbourne, I was already boxed in by old labels—my identity was shaped by my school friends, my extended family, and the expectations I had for myself. 

Once I landed in Southeast Asia, everything felt up for grabs. Nobody had a preconceived notion of who I was or what I was supposed to do.

Stepping into that freedom can be both exhilarating and terrifying. On one hand, it’s like a blank canvas. You can paint a totally different picture of yourself if you choose to. On the other hand, you’re forced to confront your real motivations and insecurities. There’s no comfort zone to retreat to. 

I’ve talked about this before in a different post, but the feeling of starting over gives you a chance to question everything you took for granted.

How letting go of comfort opened new doors

I won’t lie: the early days were tough. I didn’t speak the local language well enough to have deep conversations, and I missed the familiarity of home—things like easily hopping on a tram or grabbing a flat white at my favorite cafe. I missed my friends, my favorite jogging path, and even the weather that changed every five minutes.

But as the initial shock wore off, I found myself adapting in ways I never thought possible. All the little struggles—figuring out how to communicate with taxi drivers, learning new social norms, discovering hole-in-the-wall restaurants—slowly turned into daily adventures. I realized that when you push through the awkwardness of not knowing how to do something, you stretch your comfort zone like never before and you become more open-minded. 

Research backs up this idea. It has been found that living abroad can significantly boost creativity. I guess this is because it forces you to adapt to less familiar cultural contexts. I had no idea this was happening under my nose until I noticed myself coming up with more creative solutions to all sorts of problems—professional, personal, and even interpersonal.

What I gained: new perspectives and community

Living in Southeast Asia exposed me to cultural values I hadn’t been as attuned to back home—things like deep respect for elders, a strong sense of community, and a slower, more deliberate way of life. In many parts of the region, people don’t live to work; they work to live. This shift made me question the go-go-go mentality I had unconsciously inherited.

Ironically, I also found a sense of community that reminded me of home, just in a different form. I built friendships with both locals and fellow expats—people who, like me, came here to learn, to grow, or simply to find a new pace of life. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the feeling of belonging can flourish anywhere, as long as you’re open to the people around you.

When I talk about “gaining perspective,” it’s not just about a new vantage point from which to observe the world. It’s about challenging my own biases, expanding my empathy, and realizing that not everyone views life the way I do. 

What I lost: familiarity and certain relationships

Of course, moving abroad came with its sacrifices. I lost the immediate closeness of my family and longtime friends. Sure, technology helps us stay in touch, but video calls aren’t the same as popping over for a Sunday barbecue. Over time, I noticed that some friendships faded naturally. Not out of malice, but simply because our paths diverged.

There was also the loss of the kind of familiarity that only comes from spending years in one place. In Melbourne, I could navigate entire neighborhoods blindfolded. I knew the best dumpling spots and the most scenic running trails. Here, I was starting at ground zero. This loss hit me hard at first, especially during lonely nights when I missed home. But looking back, losing the “known” pushed me to explore uncharted territory, literally and metaphorically. It forced me to become more proactive about creating the life I wanted.

Lessons from Eastern philosophy (and beyond)

One of the biggest draws of Southeast Asia for me was the opportunity to immerse myself in Eastern philosophy. I’d read about mindfulness and Buddhism in textbooks, but seeing how these ideas actually inform daily life here was a whole different ball game. There’s a palpable sense of acceptance and interconnectedness that runs through many local communities.

The Dalai Lama said, “Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.” That quote took on a new meaning for me once I was living in a place where gratitude, prayer, and a slower pace are woven into everyday routines. The notion that we have the power to shape our own well-being through mindful choices became more than an abstract concept—it became a way of life.

In many ways, this experience inspired me to delve deeper into how to live with maximum impact and minimum ego, a concept I explored more thoroughly in my book, Hidden Secrets of Buddhism. 

The surprising career shift

I expected to find personal growth in this new environment, but the professional opportunities caught me off guard. Initially, I assumed I’d teach English for a year or two white working on this site, maybe travel around, and then figure out my next step. Instead, I ended up building a writing career that feels both challenging and deeply fulfilling.

Southeast Asia is home to rapidly growing hubs for digital nomads, entrepreneurs, and freelancers. I met people from all over the world who were running startups or working remotely while exploring this vibrant region. Their stories were contagious. 

Before I knew it, this site was showing signs of promising growth. I was writing about mindfulness, relationships, and personal development (as I still do) and found there was a global audience craving these insights.

That doesn’t mean it was always smooth sailing. There were moments of financial uncertainty and plenty of imposter syndrome. But every setback taught me something new, reinforcing the point that you really can shape a career around the life you want, not the other way around.

Final words

If I could go back and give my younger self a piece of advice before hopping on that flight, I’d tell him that it’s okay to be afraid. Fear is natural when you’re standing at the edge of a completely new life. Just don’t let that fear stop you from diving in. Because once you take that leap, you realize how incredibly vast and varied the world is—and how much of it is out there waiting to be discovered.

I’m glad I didn’t let my doubts hold me back, because the last 10 years have been the most transformative decade of my life. And while I don’t know exactly what the next 10 years will bring, I do know that wherever I end up, the lessons from this journey will stay with me forever.