Blog Post 11 - How Living Abroad Changed the Way I See Home

Here I am, in a café in Pisac, a little mountain town 2,800 meters above sea level in Peru. Taking a sip of my hot, spicy chai latte, I listen to the rain and watch the drops wash down the cobblestone streets.

I’m thinking about what I’m about to write - depending on how I feel, as always. I realise I haven’t had a fixed idea of home for years. Living abroad has a way of stretching your definition of it - and of yourself.

The Old Meaning of Home - Back in the Netherlands

Home was simply home - where I was born and raised. We never moved when I was young, and even now, my dad still lives in the same house. Nothing has really changed there. It’s a safe base I can always go back to if needed.

However, I’m 31 now. I’ve lived in Maastricht, then Leeuwarden, and later in South Africa. Then I moved to Australia - and now I am in Peru. I’ve returned to my dad’s place for a few months at a time in between, but it’s not really home anymore. It’s familiar, yes - but also a bit foreign.

Once you’ve outgrown a version of yourself, it’s hard to fit back into that old mold. Like said in Alice in Wonderland, “It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” - Lewis Carroll. You’ve already mourned the person you were then, and you’re not the same anymore. Because of that you can feel like a misfit.

Each time I return, I find it harder to adapt to the culture in the Netherlands. My inner culture has changed - shaped by the influences of all the other places I’ve lived. It’s not just me who’s different; countries change too - so did the Netherlands. When I visit now, I notice how much has shifted - maybe even more because I was away for so long. There’s a certain hardness, a growing polarisation, something that feels different from the warmth and openness I remember from my childhood.

Before I left for South Africa, that life was all I knew - a simple rhythm of school, work, family dinners, and evenings watching TV together. That comfort was my definition of home.

South Africa: Finding Belonging & Connection to Nature

In South Africa, I found a new kind of belonging. It was confronting at times - as the country is still dealing with the aftermath of Apartheid - but people were open, warm, welcoming and deeply sociable. It wasn’t so hard to connect - something I had often struggled with back home.

In the Netherlands, my abundance and enthusiasm sometimes felt “too much.” I never quite found my tribe. But in South Africa, I could be my full, expressive self. I felt accepted for my enthusiasm, creativity and zest for life.

Living in the South African bush awakened something else in me. I spent my days surrounded by wildlife, observing the delicate balance of nature - the elephants moving silently through the trees (did you know elephants can hide really well in the bush?), lions working together in the hunt, chameleons adapting their color as they move. For the first time, I felt how small and interconnected we all really are. In the Netherlands, nature has become something you visit; there, it was something you belonged to. Something you were a part of.

Australia: Independence and opportunity

Australia was a similar experience, yet set in a totally different cultural environment. It’s where I became my most independent self.

When the pandemic hit, I had to choose between one of the last flights home or staying. I’d already been there for over half a year and couldn’t see much waiting for me back in the Netherlands - just my dad’s couch and no job, as my degree is in hospitality. In Australia, I knew I could always find something - apple picking, vineyard work, anything to support myself financially. There, no one cared whether you had a degree or not. In the Netherlands I’d be too old and too expensive for simple jobs like that. It was scary, but I stayed. And I’m so glad I did. Aussies opened their doors and hearts to foreigners stuck far away from home.

In total about 3,5 years - with some small pauses in between - I lived out of my rooftop tent, free camping along the coast. I’d wake up to the sound of crashing waves, the birds greeting the sunrise, make coffee on my little gas stove, and slowly start my day. It was the simplest I’ve ever lived, yet I felt incredibly rich - in freedom, peace and presence.

It wasn’t always perfect, it could be extremely tiring. Especially when from time to time the winds picked up and I felt like a cocktail shaken in my tent on top of my car, or had to spend the night on my driver’s seat because of a thunder storm. Nevertheless, I most definitely enjoyed feeling so connected to nature, living a very back-to-basic lifestyle - without running tapwater, having to pack and unpack all the time, no electricity… It taught me a lot about basic needs, comfort and my own adaptability.

My time in Australia turned into years of growth. I started my own business, Vino & Van Gogh, and traveled two laps around the country. Eventually, I settled in Margaret River - a coastal town three hours south of Perth.

That place had it all: creatives, musicians, surfers, open-minded locals, and an easy-going lifestyle surrounded by forest, wineries, cliffs and the most beautiful turquoise beaches. It really became my home - a blend of nature, art, and freedom.

Peru: Going Inward - Spirituality & Inner Growth

Now, here in Peru, I feel like I’m getting to know myself on a deeper level. You truly meet yourself when you start over in a completely different culture. I have a feeling I’ll call this place home for now - hugged by the mountains. I’m still building this life; it’s a process with ups and downs, and once again completely different from other places I stayed longer.

I’ve been learning about ancient Andean and Amazonian traditions - plant medicines, ceremonies and deep inner healing work. There’s a beautiful connection to Pachamama (Mother Earth), and creativity is woven into daily life. Art and music are everywhere - not just as hobbies, but as living expressions of personal reflection, ancestral wisdom, and culture.

Life here feels simple, yet deeply meaningful. Because the culture hasn’t been driven by constant economic growth, that sacred connection to the elements still exists. People still work the land with  their hands and traditional tools. Nothing feels automated or rushed. Even the small details reflect that - in the local supermarket there’s no self-scan machine, and you’re lucky if they even have a card terminal. Everything reminds you to slow down, to be present, to return to the essentials.

Cobble stone streets in Cusco

The Challenges

Of course, living abroad isn’t just beauty and discovery. There are many challenges - goodbyes, uncertainty, and the ache of missing family.

Believe it or not, my family and I are very close - especially my dad, my sister, and me. We went through a lot when I was young, losing our mom, which brought us even closer together.

Sometimes, I feel guilty for being far away, for missing those small but precious moments. But I also know that everyone has their own path. My family understands and supports mine, even though they miss me too.

The pandemic made that distance even harder than ever. Since then, I’ve realised there is no such thing as being “just a flight away”. We couldn’t see each other for three years - far too long. Afterwards, I felt a bit alienated from my own roots, shaped by such different experiences and perspectives.

But that too, became part of my growth.

Redefining Home

Living abroad has taught me that home isn’t one fixed place. It’s a collection of feelings - safety, comfort, connection, and inspiration.

For me the feeling of home appears wherever enthusiasm sparks and creativity flows. I often find a sense of home and belonging in the little things: the sound of the rain on my tent, smelling the wild roses on a walk in nature, spontaneous meaningful moments with friends, walking the cobble stone streets (often nearly breaking my ankle), and taking in the colors of everything around me.

In the end, home is within yourself. You carry it in your self-love, your presence, and your openness to the world. A bit like a chameleon, you can adapt and be home wherever life takes you. That being said, you can also outgrow places once they no longer nourish your growth - and then you can gently move on, knowing home will always be within yourself.

With warmth,
Kimberly 🌻