In my first posts, I shared the raw reality of my expat journey: the euphoric high followed by the crushing low, the breakdown of my relationship, and the relentless, daily fight to regain control. I told you about the discipline I enforced—the strict dietary overhaul, the painful start of my sports routine, and the terrifying leaps of faith into new friendships and, most importantly, into university in a foreign language. It was a period of intense action, an adrenaline-fueled battle against my own apathy and isolation.
I’m happy to tell you that the fight was successful. I am sitting in my own apartment, which I finally secured after countless disheartening rejections. I am healthy, active, and navigating the academic landscape of a degree that once seemed impossible. The immediate crisis is over. But that victory has brought me face-to-face with a different kind of challenge: the challenge of the “New Normal.”
The initial adrenaline has worn off. The desperate fight to survive has been replaced by the quiet, daily, unglamorous practice of maintenance and growth. And in this new phase, I’ve had to radically redefine my very idea of “success” and what it means to actually make it abroad.
When I first arrived, my vision of success was a perfect, fuzzy destination. I thought that if I could just check off the boxes—get the job, the apartment, learn the language, and be seamlessly integrated—I would be ‘successful.’ I was wrong. Expat success isn’t a destination, but it’s a sustainable series of small, hard-won victories. It’s not about being flawless, it’s about being resilient.
I learned this through the small steps I took to rebuild. When I cut out sweets and started working out, the initial goal was to lose the 15kg I had gained from stress-eating and regain energy. Those metrics matter, but they are not the only ones. The true success was the discipline itself. It was the moment I chose discipline over comfort. Every time I laced up my shoes when I wanted to crawl under the covers, I was succeeding. Every day I chose nourishing food over emotional comfort, I was succeeding. The numbers on the scale were just a reflection of that deeper, internal resilience.
Similarly, my first degree in this new language is a monumental risk, and I face potential failure and linguistic struggle every single day. But the old Ana, the one who planned everything perfectly and hid when Plan A failed, is gone. The new Ana knows that the real success is the attempt. Every morning I wake up and choose to study, despite the exhaustion and the fear of failure, I am succeeding. I am proving to myself that I can compete, learn, and grow, regardless of the fuzzy prospects.
The apartment hunt taught me a lesson in acceptance. After so many rejections, it would have been easy to spiral back into that dark place. But the discipline of my sports routine gave me the perspective that rejection is not a reflection of my worth; it’s just a data point. Success wasn’t the apartment itself; it was the ability to receive a hundred “no’s” and still have the strength to send out the next application, refined and ready.
Finding a community and forcing myself back into social situations was another lesson. I realized that my self-imposed isolation, driven by my insecurity about my looks, was just self-pity masquerading as a defense. Real success in expat life is not having a perfect body; it is having the courage to show up. It is the moment I said “yes” to a social event when my anxiety screamed “no.” Success isn’t about fitting into a pre-made social aesthetic; it’s about building genuine connections and allowing yourself to be seen.
This journey has been incredibly messy, and I have scars to show for it—physical, emotional, and social. But those scars are part of my new identity. I gain strength from acknowledging the 15kg I gained and subsequent loss, the bureaucracy stress that often felt like a personal attack, and the relationship that had to end. These were not setbacks or failures; they were part of the foundational steps of my new life.
Life in Switzerland today is not a flawless Instagram feed. My future prospects are still complex and fuzzy. I still have bad days, moments when the old pessimism tries to creep in. But the toolkit I built is ready. Depression isn’t cured; it is managed. Disappointment still stings, but it doesn’t crush. The difference is that I am no longer on “pause.” I am actively building.
I look in the mirror now, and the reflection is different. It is healthier, stronger, and most importantly, present. The girl who stared back in despair, overwhelmed and considering going home, is still there, but she is no longer alone. She is being guided by a woman who chose self-respect, discipline, and community over apathy.
If you are reading this from a dark room, feeling like you’ve failed because your expat journey isn’t perfect, please know this: it is never perfect. Success isn’t about checking boxes or reaching a destination. It is the relenting choice to take one more step. Go make that cup of tea. Send that application. Go for that walk. Your success isn’t waiting for you in the future; it is being forged in the messy reality of your present, with every small step you take to honor yourself. You’ve got this.
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