How I Found Myself a Little Bit More

Amidst Chaos, Disappointments, and Friendships

I moved to the Netherlands a year and a half ago with much anticipation and eagerness to start a new journey. Having lost many friends over the years, I was excited to meet new people, experience a new culture, and hopefully forge lasting friendships. I thought, Maybe this could be it. I’m finally starting a new life. I looked forward to finding real friends—the kind that would stay with me through thick and thin, the ones who could be my support system.

However, as time went by, I realized I was struggling to find them. I knew many people and had plenty of acquaintances, but very few I could truly rely on. Still, I felt fortunate to have one or two people I could count on. Ironically, those were the very people who ended up disappointing me the most, teaching me life’s greatest lessons. These were the people I had spent the most time with.

My first encounter, even before moving to the Netherlands, was with my flatmate. She was also from India, and I found her on Facebook. During a video call while I was still in India, she seemed like a cheerful, nice person, which put me at ease. I thought she could be my first potential good friend. So, we decided to look for a house together.

I urgently needed a home, as I was living out of hotels when I moved here, which made the situation stressful. She was still in India, with a month to go before she arrived. Luckily, we found a house in about 15 days, though it felt like an eternity, and the landlord agreed to let me move in early. Things seemed to be falling into place, but on the day we were supposed to move in, some mistakes nearly cost us the house. It was a rocky start.

When she finally arrived in the Netherlands, we began living together. I decided to set aside the rough beginning and give our friendship a chance, figuring we’d get to know each other better over time. Meanwhile, I was also settling into my workplace. I got along with some of my colleagues, though most were expats like me. My Dutch colleagues were friendly, but I felt a cultural divide that I didn’t know how to bridge.

Despite this, I chose to focus on the progress I was making in other areas of my life. My flatmate and I began to see each other as friends—people who could support one another. I tend to take my time to trust and open up to people, but I slowly pushed myself to share more, believing that’s how deeper connections are formed.

Throughout this period, I became more patient. I had never really lived with someone for such a long time. We started taking trips together, going to movies, and even cooking meals together. I learned a lot about her, and she taught me some small but meaningful things. Yet, despite these moments of closeness, I often felt a distance I couldn’t quite cross, and sometimes she would say things I could never have imagined.

Around this time, I also met someone else. With him, there was an instant connection—rare and surprising. From the moment we met, I knew I wanted to spend more time with him. He had recently come out of a relationship, so we both agreed to be friends. However, I couldn’t help but look for reasons to spend more time with him, hoping that our friendship might gradually evolve into something more.

As we began seeing each other more often, our conversations deepened, and it felt like we were gradually crossing the line between friendship and something more. It was an exciting yet confusing experience. When I finally worked up the courage to ask him about it, he admitted he felt a connection too. But I sensed he wasn’t ready, and I realized I had been hoping for more than he could offer. That’s when I decided to step back and stop seeing him.

Despite this, he made me realize something important: with him, I was ready to take a leap of faith into a relationship—something I hadn’t been sure of with anyone before. Even though he wasn’t the right person for me, he helped me see that I was moving forward, making progress in ways I hadn’t expected.

It took time for me to stop thinking about him and how things might have turned out differently if I hadn’t stepped back. Still, I knew I had made the right decision. While processing all this, it was almost the end of the year. I agreed with my flatmate that it might be time to find a new house since this one had its own set of issues that we had been facing over the past year.

That’s when things started escalating. We began having many conflicts due to differing opinions, which drained a lot of mental energy. Despite our differences, we somehow managed to move into a second house together. Looking back, I consider it a mistake that I couldn’t gather the courage to find a place on my own and ended up sharing another house with her.

After moving, certain situations arose, revealing sides of her I had never expected. Some days were spent in regret, realizing I didn’t feel at home in the very place where I lived. Other days, I tried to distract myself by applying for every available house on the market, hoping to escape the situation.

Yet, amidst this personal turmoil, something unexpected happened at work. During a team dinner, we began discussing my dating life, and I casually mentioned that I was avoiding dating Dutch men. This comment sparked a broader conversation about being an expat and the cultural differences we faced. To my surprise, my Dutch colleagues opened up about their own experiences and made a genuine effort to understand mine. For the first time, I felt truly seen and heard by them. They told me, “You’re more than just an expat,” and that moment shifted something inside me. I realized that being an outsider didn’t have to define me.

As time passed, I began to see that while some aspects of my life were falling apart, others were starting to make sense. My relationship with my flatmate had reached a breaking point, and I knew I needed to move on. The process of letting go wasn’t easy. We had shared good times, and a small part of me still cared about her. Yet, the constant tension and unresolved conflict had taken their toll, and I finally accepted that we had grown apart.

At work, my relationships with my Dutch colleagues deepened. I realized that the divide I had once felt wasn’t as permanent as I’d thought. I had begun to feel a sense of belonging that I hadn’t anticipated when I first arrived. For the first time, I felt like I could truly make a home here—both personally and professionally.

It was a complicated year and a half. There were people who disappointed me, situations that made me doubt myself, and moments when I felt lost. But amidst all that, I also experienced significant growth. I learned how to stand on my own, recognize my worth, and embrace the idea that connections don’t always come easily. Sometimes, they surprise you when you least expect it.

Recently, I watched a film called Lonely Planet, and a line from the main character resonated with me: “Writing helps you hold onto something you’ve lost.” However, this time, I want to use writing as a tool for letting go—letting go of the people and experiences that no longer serve me and starting anew from that end.