It was a grey Tuesday afternoon last January when I touched down in London, my body aching from nearly 24 hours of travel. Exhausted, I stumbled through Heathrow and eventually made it to the arrivals hall. The cabbie—a grumpy, middle-aged man who picked me up outside Paddington—spent the next 20 minutes warning me about the dangers of life in London. I sat in silence, staring out at the rain-speckled windows and wondering if I’d made a mistake coming here.
As I dragged my suitcase up three steep flights of stairs to my Airbnb and collapsed onto the bed, it hit me: I had no idea what I was doing. This was the start of something new, but also something terrifying.
Looking back, I can’t help but feel for that girl. But if I could turn back time, I’d tell her that, despite the fear and uncertainty, 2024 would turn out to be the best year of her life, and that she would find home in a place far away from where she thought she belonged.
So, I’m sharing the twelve lessons I’ve learned from twelve months of living in this incredible city.
When life demands change, you have two choices: stay the same or take a leap and do something to fix it. For me, staying the same became more painful than the idea of throwing everything away and starting fresh. Sometimes, hitting rock bottom is the perfect time to re-evaluate and change.
Breakups suck—especially in the moment. But they’re also the perfect excuse to say, “fuck it,” and shake up the rest of your life. I quit my job, moved towns, then moved abroad. Along the way, I discovered new passions and found an entirely new community. Breakups are just another part of life’s roller coaster, and despite the pain, there are certainly positives.
Scary is good. Life begins when you face your fears.
For me, spending money on experiences feels far more fulfilling than filling my life with possessions. I have a surprisingly fond memory of pulling up to the tip with a car full of old belongings and tossing them into the pit. By the time I arrived in London, everything I owned fit into a single suitcase (aside from my cat, of course—she didn’t quite fit).
There’s something undeniably refreshing about shedding material belongings. I didn’t realise how much I’d come to appreciate one singular pillow on a scratchy rental bed or the one warm jacket I moved over with. Having less “stuff” makes you value what you do have. A year ago, I was stuck in a cycle of chasing the next best thing, always upgrading what I already had. And while I won’t always be living out of a suitcase—and I do hope to buy a house one day soon—I hope to carry this lesson with me.
Mental health is your responsibility—but that doesn’t mean it’s always easy to take charge. I remember feeling incredibly low when I lived in Horrocks, spending the second half of that year feeling sorry for myself. But I learned that while change doesn’t come unless you seek it, reaching out for help can feel overwhelming at times. The good news is that help is there when you ask for it, and there are always people nearby who love and care about you. Taking that first step might feel hard, but it’s always worth it.
If you don’t do it, you’ll always wonder, "What if?" Before I left for London, I remember having a conversation with my mum. I asked her, "What if I hate it?" and she replied, "Then you can come home and have a great story to tell. But you’ll never know unless you try."
Living in a city where both my parents and grandmother once lived has been a magical experience. It’s incredible how a foreign city can suddenly feel like home when you know that close family members have called it home before you. I remember telling my Dad that Primrose Hill was one of my favourite places in London, and he said, "That's where your Grandmother lived." I had no idea. I never met my Grandmother, but I feel very close to her every time I visit that park now.
Despite experiencing life in this big city, I can see myself settling down in Western Australia—it will always be home. Sometimes, leaving your home country teaches you more about it than staying ever could. Moving abroad has given me a new appreciation for Western Australia. And while London is home for now, I feel confident in my decision to eventually settle back in Australia. No more “what ifs.”
Goodbyes never get easier. Saying goodbye to family, not knowing when I’ll see them next, is still the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But the time we do spend together is incredibly special, and I will never take it for granted again.
When you accept yourself, everything starts to fall into place. For much of my life, I’ve felt like a bit of a loser—especially in high school. I was never one of the cool kids, and I was so anxious I felt like I might pass out on my way to my locker each morning. But in a city like London, there’s always someone weirder than you, which is oddly comforting. I used to think I wasn’t worthy of friends because I struggled so much to find my community back then. Now, as an adult living in a foreign city, I’ve been overwhelmed by the number of people I’ve met who’ve faced similar struggles. Before moving to London, I was told it could be lonely living in such a big city, but I’ve found the opposite to be true. There are millions of people here, and maybe—just maybe—my negative experience with friendships wasn’t the norm, but more a result of the cliquey nature of my grammar school in a small community.
Social media is fake—never compare yourself to what you see online. This is a lesson I didn’t necessarily learn this year, as everyone knows social media is curated and edited. However, it’s become more prominent for me because I realise I’m part of the issue. Take earlier this week, for example. After posting numerous stories about my adventures in Germany, I returned to London and spent two entire days in bed, ordering takeout and eating chocolate for breakfast. I had a mild case of the post-holiday blues. But of course, that’s not Instagram-worthy content. Social media is just a curated highlight reel; you only see the best bits. It’s normal to feel like crap, sleep in until 11am, and cry.
Routine is key. It might sound boring, but having a daily structure can truly help you stay grounded. Whether it’s a morning coffee, a walk, or simply setting aside time to unwind, small habits create stability. I’ve learned that even in a new city, having my own little daily rituals gives me a sense of control when everything else can feel uncertain.
A x
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