When I graduated from college in 2021, all I cared about was moving abroad.
As a Spanish and communications student, I was supposed to spend a full year studying abroad in Seville, Spain — something I had looked forward to for years.
Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, though, I had to leave in March 2020. Ever since, I knew I wanted to go back.
My dream was to receive a Fulbright scholarship, and when I was accepted to come teach English in Madrid, it felt like everything had fallen into place.
There were parts of life in Madrid that I loved, but I started struggling to integrate
During that first year, I taught at a university, where I also led a weekly dialogue group with students in Afghanistan, many of them women without access to in-person education. It became one of the most meaningful parts of my experience abroad.
After that year, I wasn’t ready to leave. I found a remote job in tech PR so I could stay in Madrid, but it came with a trade-off: I had to work US hours, from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m.
At first, it felt worth it. I was living in Spain, after all. I had friends, favorite cafés, weekend traditions, and spots in my neighborhood that felt like home. From the outside, it looked like I had fully integrated.
As the next two years went on, though, my schedule started to wear me down. I was working while my friends were out living their lives. They were going to events, pursuing hobbies, and building routines.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t join evening activities or commit to things like volunteering. I was out of sync with the city around me, living a kind of reverse life that started to feel isolating.
Plus, even though I spoke fluent Spanish, I became increasingly aware that I would never fully fit in. I felt an underlying awareness, both from other people and within myself, that I was stepping into an already established world.
Friendships, too, felt different than what I was used to. I made some Spanish friends who welcomed me into plans, but between my work hours and the fact that everyone else had known each other for years, it was challenging to build a consistent, integrated social circle instead of feeling like I was occasionally stepping into one that already existed.
Living in Madrid made me realize that many friendships were built with permanence in mind. People invested in relationships they believed would last long-term, and as someone who wasn’t from Spain — even though I once thought I’d stay forever — I couldn’t relate to that stability.
I was welcomed, but I didn’t feel like I truly belonged. Over time, I realized I couldn’t picture building a long-term future there. At least, not in the way I wanted.
A lot of people were surprised when I decided to leave Madrid
Toward the end of my time in Spain, I met someone I genuinely thought I might build a long-term relationship with. At first, this felt like a sign that I should stay abroad.
When that relationship didn’t work out, though, I was forced to look at my life more honestly. Without that imagined future anchoring me there, I realized how disconnected I was from the day-to-day life I actually wanted.
Then, I turned 27. With 30 on the horizon, I felt a sudden sense of urgency. I didn’t just want a life that looked exciting from the outside; I wanted one that felt connected and sustainable every day.
So I made a decision that surprised everyone around me: I left Madrid and moved to New York City, a place I had once lived for a three-month internship. I had one close friend in the area, and a few loose acquaintances.
I was terrified I’d regret it immediately, that I’d miss Spain and feel like I’d made a mistake.
Within weeks of arriving in New York, I noticed a difference
After leaving Spain, I realized how much I’d missed small, spontaneous moments of connection. Here in New York, I’ve had a surprisingly easy time talking to strangers, whether it’s a quick chat in a grocery-store line or a conversation at a bar.
Crucially, I was also able to start building routines in a way I hadn’t been able to in years, due to my work schedule in Madrid. I signed up for hip-hop classes, started playing pool every Wednesday at my local bar, and began recognizing familiar faces on my daily walks.
For the first time in years, my life felt aligned with the way I actually wanted to live it.
Now, I’ve been here for five months, and I’m so happy I made the jump. Looking back, I didn’t leave Madrid because it wasn’t a good life — in many ways, it was exactly what I dreamt of — but I left because it wasn’t fully mine.
I’ll always be glad my dreams led me to Madrid, but I’m also happy I recognized when it was time to go. Now, I’m living my dream life somewhere new.
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