I Didn't Think I Could Live Abroad. Until I Did.
For most of my adult life, living abroad was something I dreamed about.
I had Evernote notebooks full of destinations — rental costs, visa requirements, neighborhood maps, cost of living estimates. I'd spend hours on Google Street View walking the streets of cities I'd never visited, imagining what it would feel like to actually live there. All while assuming it was something we'd do someday, but only if the stars aligned. Maybe when we retired. Maybe when the timing was right.
Then I was laid off. And instead of treating it like a catastrophe, my husband Andrew and I looked at each other and asked: what if this is the right time?
There were other factors too. Healthcare in the US was crushing us — our son's medication alone ran $1,300 a month, on top of insurance premiums, specialist co-pays, and lab costs. Andrew just turned 45, the same age his father was when he died in a car accident. We were working long hours and missing the life happening right in front of us.
We decided to stop waiting for the right moment and make one.
My layoff happened at the end of January 2014. We landed in Thailand on April 1st of the same year. In between, I sold our house, sold everything in it, picked a destination, arranged visas, researched healthcare options for our son's chronic condition, and planned the entire move. My project management skills and years of accumulated research came together in a way that turned what felt impossible into something we could actually execute — step by step, decision by decision.
“We decided to stop waiting for the right moment and make one.”
Our original plan was one year in Thailand, then back to Portland.
Three months in, there was a military coup. With a young child, we decided not to wait and see. So I did what I always do — I pulled out my research, pivoted, and we kept moving.
Vietnam to visit old friends. Malaysia, where Andrew's family had lived decades before — we even rented an apartment on the same street his grandparents once lived on. Cambodia, because I'd always wanted to see Angkor Wat. Then Europe in the autumn: England, Croatia, Slovenia, Italy, Hungary, France, Spain.
By the time our "one year" was up, we weren't ready to stop.
We landed in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, planning to stay three months before going home. Three months became six. Six became a year. Our son made friends, we found our community, and we made a life.
What was supposed to be temporary lasted ten years. We became permanent residents and Mexico became home. Our son grew up there, attending Mexican bilingual schools and fully integrating into the community — he graduated with a Mexican Bachillerato diploma. Along the way I navigated four different schools for him, researched worldschooling curricula during our nomadic years, and learned firsthand what it means to make thoughtful educational decisions for a child growing up across cultures.
Andrew contributed to the local community in ways neither of us had anticipated. We built something real.
“Although Mexico will always be our adopted home, the journey continues.”
We left Mexico in 2024 after our son graduated from high school — and kept moving. Although, Mexico will always be home. We maintain our permanent residency there and we plan to return eventually.
A family gap year took us through Turkey, Albania, and Poland before we helped our son begin a foundation program in art and design in Prague. When that chapter ended unexpectedly, we pivoted again — as we always do — and helped him find and apply to a four-year Bachelor's program at a university in the Netherlands, navigating the European university application process, student visa requirements, and residency permits along the way.
That experience — researching dozens of European universities, identifying the right English-taught programs, and working through the practical and legal logistics of studying abroad — opened my eyes to how much American families need guidance in this space. Providing that support and guidance is something I can offer alongside my relocation consulting work.
Andrew and I are currently using Albania as our home base, making regular trips to Greece, North Macedonia, Kosovo, and Serbia, with the Netherlands and Scotland ahead. We are, in the truest sense, still living this life — not describing it from memory.
What I Learned
Living abroad long-term teaches you things that no amount of research can.
It teaches you that the logistics — visas, healthcare, banking, housing, schools — are genuinely figure-out-able. They feel overwhelming before you start, and manageable once you do. What matters more is something harder to plan for: knowing yourself well enough to build a life that fits you, not just a life that looks good from the outside.
Is it always easy? No. We miss people. Things go wrong. Systems don't work the way you expect. But I've never regretted the decision — not once.
What I have learned is that the people who thrive abroad are the ones who are honest with themselves about who they are and what they need. And the ones who struggle are usually the ones who moved toward something they only imagined, rather than something they actually understood.
That's the gap I help people close.
Why I Do This
I'm not a visa lawyer or an immigration consultant or an accountant. I don't file paperwork or manage logistics on your behalf.
What I am is someone who has actually lived this — across 25+ countries on multiple continents, through a military coup and a global pandemic and more bureaucratic curveballs than I can count. Someone who has navigated healthcare in foreign systems, built a career remotely long before remote work was common, managed international schooling decisions across a decade, and made every mistake worth making so I could learn from them.
I bring 20 years of professional project management to a decision that many people treat as pure emotion. That combination — lived experience plus structured thinking — is what makes the difference between a plan that feels exciting and one that actually works.
I started Life Abroad After 50 because I kept meeting people who wanted this life but didn't know where to start. People who had done the research but couldn't make sense of it. People who were ready to move but couldn't find anyone to talk to who had actually done it — not just written about it.
I can be that person for you.
A Few Things Worth Knowing
I'm currently living in Albania as a digital nomad but I’m not ready to settle down yet — so when we talk, I'm speaking from inside this life, not from memory.
I can't promise I have every answer. Some questions will require an immigration lawyer or an accountant. But I can almost always help you figure out which questions to ask, who to ask them to, and whether a path is worth pursuing at all.
I work with a small number of clients at a time. This is intentional. When you work with me, you have my full attention.
I believe that living abroad is not for everyone — and I will tell you honestly if I think it's not right for your situation. That honesty is the whole point.
Ready to Talk to Someone Who's Actually Done This?
The first step is a 60-minute conversation. Get honest feedback about your situation and guidance on what's actually possible.
Have questions first? Reach me at pati@lifeabroadafter50.com