In today’s world, more and more people no longer see national borders as the ultimate definition of where they belong. For some, emigration is the fulfillment of a lifelong dream; for others, it is a necessity or an opportunity for professional growth. Regardless of the reason for leaving, moving to another country means confronting the unknown—a new culture, a new language, everyday challenges, and the need to build a life from scratch.
Although life abroad is often portrayed on social media as an exciting adventure, the reality is far more complex. Emigration is not simply a change of address; it is also a process of redefining one’s identity, sense of security, and answering the question: where is my home, really?
More Than a Change of Address – What Determines Our Success in a New Environment?
According to the International Organization for Migration, approximately 340 million international migrants were living worldwide in 2024. At the same time, around 22 million Poles and people of Polish descent live outside Poland, illustrating the enormous scale of migration today. Migration has become one of the most significant social processes shaping modern societies.
However, such a sudden and profound change of environment can generate high levels of stress. Public discussions about migration often focus on economic factors, yet the challenges of adaptation and their impact on mental well-being are equally important. Adjusting to new circumstances, building social relationships based on unfamiliar norms, and functioning within a different culture are frequently accompanied by uncertainty and culture shock.
Communication, which plays a fundamental role in social life, is often limited by language barriers, while family and loved ones remain in the country of origin, leading to feelings of loneliness and isolation.
At the same time, the experience of migration can foster psychological resilience and intercultural competence, making it a valuable and enriching journey. As the American Psychological Association emphasizes, one of the key factors influencing migrants’ well-being is a sense of community and belonging. It is our relationships with others that help us navigate the adaptation process and find our place in a new reality.
Finding Yourself Between Cultures
Kinga Drożyńska shares what it is like to move to the other side of the world, confront the realities of life in Asia, and build a new everyday life within a completely different culture. She has lived in Asia for over a decade—first in Hong Kong and now in Tokyo. She is actively involved in initiatives promoting mental health, integration, and supportive communities. She collaborates with the Idylla Foundation on the Idylla Around The World Japan project and is currently developing her own initiative, Ikingai Better Mental Health, which focuses on improving access to mental health support while raising awareness and education in this field.
In this interview, she talks about how the decision to move abroad was born, the challenges of emigration, and why, after many years of living overseas, she redefined the meaning of “home.”
Do you remember the moment when you first thought, “I want to live somewhere other than Poland”?
Yes. I remember sitting on a bench with my husband while traveling through Beijing, watching people go about their everyday lives. We were struck by how vast the world is and how many different ways there are to live. We thought that life is only lived once, so it would be worth trying to live in different parts of the world.
At the time, my husband worked for a company that offered international relocation opportunities. He expressed his willingness to move to Asia, although we had no idea where we would eventually end up. In the end, we were offered Hong Kong. Some time passed between that first conversation and the actual move because we already had a young child when the opportunity came, but we never let go of the idea.
Many people dream about living abroad, but only a few actually decide to do it. What was the hardest part of making that decision?
I think uncertainty is the hardest part. You decide to do something without knowing what your life will look like on the other side of the world. It takes courage to step into the unknown and rebuild everything—your daily routine, your relationships, and your sense of security.
There is another aspect of that courage as well. You have to accept that not everyone will be happy about your decision. In our case, we had a small child, which meant leaving grandparents behind. It was difficult for the whole family. We had to accept that by making a decision aligned with our dreams, we were also causing pain to people we loved. At some point, however, you have to take responsibility for your own choices. Every decision has consequences, and accepting those consequences was the hardest part for me.
What was it like building everyday life in a new place—first Hong Kong, then Tokyo—not as a tourist but as a resident?
Moving from Poland to Hong Kong was an enormous leap. I come from a small town, and suddenly I found myself in one of the world’s largest metropolitan areas. I had also recently become a mother, so there was a natural fear of raising a child in a completely unfamiliar place. I had to learn how the healthcare system worked, find the right stores, and understand how the city functioned.
It may sound trivial today, but I still remember how difficult it was just to find the right supermarket. The first shop I visited made me believe that everything in Hong Kong was incredibly expensive. Later, I realized it was simply a luxury supermarket. The climate was another major shock—the humidity, the noise, and the fast pace of life. These factors affected not only my daily routine but also my overall well-being.
Moving from Hong Kong to Tokyo was much easier because we had visited Japan many times as tourists before. We also had Japanese friends, so the country was not entirely unfamiliar to us.
Did Japan turn out to be what you had imagined before moving there?
To some extent, yes. However, living in Japan turned out to be more challenging than I had expected—not because of the services or infrastructure, which function exceptionally well, but because building deeper relationships is much more difficult. That makes it harder to truly feel integrated into society.
Japanese society is relatively closed and reserved toward foreigners. People are incredibly polite, helpful, and kind, yet they also maintain a significant emotional distance. Even at our children’s international school, Japanese children tend to stay within their own groups. The same applies to parents. Relationships are friendly and respectful, but they usually remain quite superficial. Conversations revolve around everyday topics rather than more personal matters.
What surprised you most about everyday life in Japan?
Ironically, the level of bureaucracy and the outdated nature of some technological systems. Many people imagine Japan as an ultra-modern country, yet in many areas it still relies on processes that seem rather old-fashioned. A great deal of paperwork is still required for many administrative procedures. When we bought our house, some formalities even required handling large amounts of cash, which from a European perspective seems highly unusual today.
On the other hand, everything operates very efficiently. Public offices work exceptionally well, and the level of customer service is remarkable. Japanese politeness is not just a stereotype—you genuinely feel that people want to help and solve problems. Japan teaches patience. If someone cannot accept that certain things are simply done differently here, frustration comes very quickly.
How has your understanding of “home” changed after so many years of living in different countries?
This question came back to me many times, especially once we started raising our children. I often wondered where they truly belonged and which culture they would identify with.
Over time, however, I learned to see home differently. My husband had a great influence on this perspective because he moved frequently throughout his childhood. For him, home was never a specific building or a point on a map. Today, I feel the same way. Home is wherever we are together and wherever we build our everyday life. It does not have to be connected to one country or one address.
Does emigration make people feel a stronger need for community and mutual support?
Absolutely. When you live far away from your own country and culture, you deeply need contact with people who understand your experiences.
Japanese people can be incredibly kind, but they do not always understand the challenges of living between cultures. It is much easier to talk to someone who has gone through the process of adapting, rebuilding their life, and coping with the feeling of being an outsider. That is why creating spaces where people can meet, share experiences, and support one another is so important.
What would you say to someone who dreams of changing their life but is afraid to take the first step?
First of all, I would tell them not to treat the decision as if it were permanent. When we left Poland, we thought we would stay abroad for only one year. We simply wanted to give it a try. Later, new opportunities appeared, followed by new decisions.
I believe it is always better to try than to spend your whole life wondering “what if.” Even if things do not work out, you still gain experience and learn something valuable. Taking action opens the door to new opportunities. If we never act, we never even give ourselves the chance to see them.
Beyond Expectations, Yet True to Yourself
Although emigration begins with changing one’s place of residence, it is, above all, a journey inward. It requires courage, patience, and a willingness to live beyond what is familiar and predictable. Living in another country is not only about discovering new cultures but also about constantly redefining one’s identity, relationships, and sense of belonging.
Home is not always a place marked on a map. Sometimes it becomes the space created by the people we love, our everyday experiences, and the feeling that, regardless of where we are in the world, we are living in harmony with ourselves.
Author: Martyna Korczyńska, student at SWPS University in Wrocław
This article was created as part of an internship at The Talk Box.