The Cost of Starting Over
By Liesa Witt · Published · Updated
We often romanticize starting over, focusing on the adventure, freedom, and possibilities while overlooking the cost that comes with it. Having built a life across borders, I've learned that change is both liberating and deeply uncomfortable, requiring you to rebuild stability, belonging, and confidence from the ground up.
There’s something ironic about starting over.
Most of us crave change until we begin to understand what it will cost us.
We dream about the new city, the fresh start, the freedom, the opportunities. We imagine the version of ourselves waiting on the other side. What we rarely think about are the things we have to leave behind to get there.
Starting over can be the most liberating thing you’ll ever do. It can also be the most terrifying.
If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably feel torn between two worlds.
World One One part of you wants stability. A good income. A home. Family. The things we’re taught to strive for because they’re familiar and considered safe and socially acceptable.
World Two The other part wants Freedom. Growth. Adventure. The chance to create a life that feels intentional rather than inherited.
For most of my life, I’ve been pulled toward the second.
I grew up in a small town in Germany with a nagging feeling that I didn’t quite belong. I can’t fully explain why. I just knew that I wanted to see more of the world and experience life beyond the boundaries of what was familiar and considered the "normal path".
That feeling eventually led me to start my journey moving across countries, cultures, and most recently continents.
Currently in Panama for a month however, my path has led me to build a life in New York City.
I could tell you how great and exciting this journey was but this would be a half truth because it also meant starting over in almost every area of life at the same time.
To say it has been a rollercoaster would be an understatement.
There were moments when I felt incredibly alive and motivated. Moments when I looked around and thought, I actually did it.
And there were moments, days when I sat down on my couch and just cried because starting over and building a life from zero far away from any support system weights heavy. Thus, what I underestimated most of all was the emotional weight of carrying it all myself.
Of course I had people I could talk to. Friends I could meet for coffee. People who cared but time was limited and in the end it didn't change the setting. At the end of the day, I was still the one responsible for figuring everything out, pay my bills, build runway, find clients, do a good job, stay strong in moments when I could barely stand straight because I have to be my own safety net.
Why am I sharing this?
Well, when people talk about moving abroad, they often focus on the exciting parts:
The adventure. The courage. The ambition. The new experiences.
What gets talked about far less is the invisible pressure that comes with rebuilding stability from scratch because we tend to receive the positive shiny image better than the dark and more disturbing one. I find it important to show you both sides of the medallion because when you decide to go one a solo mission building a life in a new country suddenly there will be moments when everything feels uncertain at once:
The foundations you once relied on are gone, and you’re tasked with creating new ones while still trying to move forward.
And while all of this was happening, you might be thinking about building a business.
Which sounds exciting in theory. Until you realize that your business isn’t just your livelihood.
In my specific case it is also tied to my ability to stay and work in the country I chose to make my home.
The pressure hits differently when your dreams, your income, and your immigration status are all connected.
That’s the part nobody really prepares you for.
The reality that building a new life isn’t one big leap.
It’s thousands of small decisions made in uncertainty. It's moments of joy and building real connections. It's success and failure.
And somehow, despite all of the positive and negative, you keep moving forward.
About the author
Liesa is a German founder and writer living in New York City. She writes first-hand guides for Europeans moving to New York and honest stories about building a life after the move.