After 5 years of living abroad in Canada and Europe, I took off my rose-colored glasses and moved back to the US

• About five years ago I left the US, first for Canada, then Luxembourg and France.
• I learned so much and had life-changing experiences, but it wasn't all sunshine and roses
• Tired of immigration bureaucracy and job hunting abroad, I finally moved back to the US.

For my entire life, I'd dreamed of moving to a different country.

In 2020, I did just that, leaving my job in my home state of Washington to spend six months living in Montreal with my then-partner.

From there, I continued my adventures living abroad, spending a year in Luxembourg to study multilingual education while working part-time, followed by just under two years in France (small-town Provence and Paris).

I had some incredible experiences, and I'm sure my Instagram feed made it look like my commute involved cobblestone streets and fresh pastries and my weekends were always spent hiking the Alps or drinking wine by the Mediterranean.

However, life abroad still had its stressors. About five years later, I gave up on the instability of constant visa renewal and just moved back to the US — and I now know the overly rosy takes on social media don't always paint a full picture.

Finding employment abroad requires determination and flexibility

Like in the US, employers abroad often prioritize hiring citizens and permanent residents.

Many countries have strict requirements for hiring foreigners, and it can be costly for businesses when you factor in things like visa sponsorship or relocation costs.

Finding the golden opportunity that will sponsor you usually means doing something different and often for less pay.

For instance, when I initially wanted to move to France, I took an "easy" route and accepted a job as a high-school language assistant through a government program.

Later, I'd work as a contractor for a US-based university and run a semester study abroad program in Paris.

Both opportunities were more or less in my field, international education; however, language assistants don't make much (only a stipend), and both jobs, by nature, were typically short-term contracts.

This kept me in a loop of constantly needing the next job to sponsor yet another visa. When the job in Paris was coming to a close, I applied to dozens of roles at various universities.

However, I didn't want to teach English again, which limited my options. After various rejections and never-ending applications, I decided my efforts may be better spent back home, in a job market I had the full legal ability to work in.

As an American, the years of endless immigration bureaucracy never got easier

Each year that I lived abroad, I had to chase down, translate, and notarize numerous proofs of identity, medical certificates, background checks, and other documents.

The cost added up to hundreds of dollars per visa and required a trip to an embassy, consulate, or third-party immigration processor in a different city.

The bureaucratic olympics don't end there. My moves to Canada and Luxembourg were during the height of the pandemic, so I had to undergo tightly regulated COVID-19 testing, vaccination checks, and quarantines.

Besides that, once in-country, there were additional medical checks, visa validations, visits to government offices, and fees paid before I was an official, if temporary, resident.

Language and cultural differences meant finding community took time

It's well-acknowledged that making friends in adulthood is anything but easy. Throw in a completely new country and likely, non-native language skills, and it can take even longer.

My first couple of months in Luxembourg were filled with periods of loneliness and questioning whether I'd made the right decision.

Luckily, after putting myself out there for coffee dates and hangouts, I did eventually fall in with a fantastic international group from various continents.

When I moved to a small town in southern France, I really had to flex my French language skills and become involved in the local community through dance classes and frequenting the same café most days.

It's easy to feel lonely and hide out in your room, or fall into the easy trap of only hanging out with fellow Americans, but eventually branching out, participating in hobbies I enjoyed, and being patient paid off for me.

All in all, I've realized a lot of digital-nomad influencers don't share the full story

After a few years abroad, I've officially removed the rose-colored glasses I'd put on after watching many American digital nomads "living the dream" around the globe.

After all, they built followings sharing dreamy farmers-market hauls and days spent sipping Aperol spritzes and espresso — not the piles of paperwork, sacrifice, and struggles that can come with living somewhere new.

Life abroad isn't an extended vacation. You still have to figure out mundane, tiring tasks like how to book appointments, go grocery shopping, and get to work on time … while also navigating visa paperwork and (sometimes) language barriers.

All of this isn't to say I didn't love my time abroad, but I do wish the discourse online was a bit more nuanced.

The past four years were some of the most rewarding of my life, but for the moment, the stressful, mundane, and complicated details have me back in the US.

Life is similarly up and down, but at least I'm navigating a culture I understand and I don't need to get a new visa every year.