What you can't budget for...

The cost of immigrating, part 3

Crossing a quick wainwright off the list in the Lake District—February 2024

Hi friend,

I took last week off to tend to myself, as well as tend to some projects around The Lighthouse (what I call my little house in the UK). The weather finally warmed up and the garden exploded, so I spent most of my time outside. I used my new lawnmower to cut the grass for only the third time in my life (all three times have been at this house, in this season). I used my new hose to wash my car. I used new tools to scrape away some of the moss growing on my patio. And I continued with what will likely be a month-long project of pulling weeds.

As of Sunday, it’s been two years since I got the keys to The Lighthouse. It’s taken those two years for me to purchase everything I just described using. Two years for me to buy things that I will be responsible for maintaining, or re-homing should I ever need to. Two years for me to feel ready to fully settle into my new life in the UK. I’m a reflective person at the best of times, but especially around milestones—and this milestone feels like a great opportunity to finish my little series on the cost of immigrating overseas.

In the first post, I outlined the costs of applying for my visa, moving over, and getting setup in the Lighthouse. And in the second post, I shared some of what it looks like to manage my finances in multiple countries—now, and when I think about the future. There were a lot of numbers in those two posts. But there are things you can’t budget for, when you decide to move to another country. Things you can’t plan/account for. And things that have been easier/harder than you’d imagined. That’s what I want to share in my final post of this series.

“What I can’t/couldn’t budget for” is a great prompt, when you’re reflecting on decisions you’re sitting with (present tense) or life changes you’ve already made (past tense). You might want to take it and apply it to something you’re considering or reflecting on in your own life. Maybe you can’t budget for the identity shift of becoming a parent, or entering a new relationship, or making a career change. Or you couldn’t budget for how much your life would change after a divorce, or a loss, or a health scare, or more simply… a new lifestyle choice.

I’ve been slowly piecing together a list of things I couldn’t account/budget for, before moving to another country. They aren’t financial. They are mental and emotional. As you’ll see, some of these things have been more challenging… and some have been incredibly rewarding. I’m sure I will only continue adding to the list, as time goes on. Here’s what I can share with you, so far…

---

What I couldn’t budget for… when I moved to the UK

I couldn’t budget for the intense fear of commitment that came up when I had to sign the lease for the Lighthouse. (A fear of commitment I didn’t even know I had.)

I couldn’t budget for how long it would take me to feel comfortable making some purchases, or that certain items would feel like bigger commitments than I’d made before. (Example: the lawnmower, lol.)

I couldn’t budget for the fact that being able to afford to live in an actual house here (versus a condo in BC) would result in me slowly becoming someone who actually wants to mow the lawn and pull weeds!? Who wants to take care of a place and tend to a little bit of property.

I couldn’t budget for how quickly getting settled in my own place would help me get back to writing. (And the more settled I am, the more writing I seem to do.)

I also couldn’t budget for what a lack of a professional network (and UK upbringing/education) would mean for my work and career prospects.

I couldn’t budget for what it would feel like to be the person who doesn’t understand most of the cultural references/jokes being made.

I couldn’t budget for how it would feel to not have anyone understand the Canadian cultural references/jokes I want to make.

I couldn’t budget for the fact that I would almost always feel like an outsider in some way.

And if I’m being really honest: I couldn’t budget for the fact that it’s possible to feel comfortable in your two homes, but to also feel as though you don’t really belong anywhere anymore. To feel like a visitor everywhere you go…

With that being said, I couldn’t budget for how special it feels to participate in new holidays and traditions with new people. And especially, for new people to celebrate your birthdays/milestones in new ways.

I couldn’t budget for the fact that I would find a partner in Tall Man, and we would start building a life together. ❤️

I couldn’t budget for the grief I felt when my sister told me she was pregnant, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to be the kind of aunt I didn’t even know I wanted to be until that moment arrived.

I couldn’t budget for how magical it is to have my baby niece see my face on a screen and for us to smile at each other. To get the opportunity to think about how to grow a relationship via long distance from the very beginning of someone’s life. And I can’t budget for it, but I do think about how magical it could be for her to come visit the UK one day.

I knew moving a third of the way around the world would have an impact on my relationships with people back home, and friendships across North America. But I couldn’t budget for which friendships would end, or which relationships would actually deepen and even grow in new ways.

I couldn’t budget for how long it would take to meet people, or how long it would take to build those new connections into friendships.

I couldn’t budget for the fact that I would meet those people, and begin to build those friendships. Or that I’d be doing that alongside my person, and we’d be growing our friendships together.

I couldn’t budget for the fact that I would eventually find driving on the other side of the road more natural/intuitive for some reason I can’t explain!?!?!?

I couldn’t budget for how “at home” I would feel in the Lake District.

I couldn’t budget for how confusing it feels to navigate different trail systems, or how much I would appreciate how easy BC makes it to get outside.

I couldn’t budget for how long it would take to learn where to buy things (or what some things are called). I still don’t always know where to go…

I couldn’t budget for how long it would take to learn how the medical + dental systems work here. (I still don’t really understand the medical system, but am grateful to be able to see nurses/doctors when I need to.)

I couldn’t budget for how much time and energy it takes to constantly be learning new things—period.

I couldn’t budget for how special it would be to learn from + navigate all of this with a new adventure partner.

I couldn’t budget for how much not having easy access to takeout (because I live in the middle of nowhere) would change my relationship with food (and my body and my health).

I couldn’t budget for how much I would miss good/cheap sushi!!!

I couldn’t budget for how pivotal to my local well-being it would be to find “my” coffee shop with “my” people. Or how loving it would feel when the woman who owns it kissed the top of my head.

I couldn’t budget for how supportive it feels to have your neighbours look after you—and look after your hedgies, when you’re away.

I couldn’t budget for how many doggy friends I would have. (Though I probably should’ve known that would happen…)

And there are two little financial things…

I couldn’t budget for the fact that I am still pricing every transaction in multiple currencies in my head. That I still see every amount through the lens of how it compares to prices in BC—2+ years later.

And I couldn’t budget for how much it would cost to not have my dad as my mechanic anymore, lol.

---

Think of a big life change or move you’ve made… what could you not have considered/budgeted for? What was better than you could’ve imagined? What was tougher to navigate?

And what am I forgetting? 🙃

---

The first two posts in this series:

The cost of immigrating

Managing your finances in multiple countries