For a long time I’ve wondered if something inside me is wired incorrectly, because I always hear this sentiment among my friends but I have never felt it.

Not on the first move from the US to China a decade ago, not on the last one from Hong Kong to Singapore a couple of years ago, and not right now as I think about going to Europe. It just has never struck me as a particularly big thing to move somewhere else.

I'm contemplating moving the family to another country and the biggest emotions I feel are connected to the financial freedom necessary to move.

I grew up in a low-income household, my grades weren't amazing, never got a stipend to study anywhere or go abroad, so being able to make this jump as a result of my own personal development is huge.

Luggage or not is beside the point for me though.

Yeah, I know exactly what you mean here - I got the same "I made this happen" feeling when I boarded that first plane.

The part that I can't easily empathize with is the idea that leaving home and going somewhere else represents some kind of cosmic upheaval of your life. I get it, academically, but I just can't put myself in that headspace.

To give an example, one of my friends back home is going through a quarter-life career crisis. For a variety of reasons I suggested that he take a couple of months off and spend it in Amsterdam - this wouldn't be any problem for him financially or harm his career progression, but it's just a bridge too far for him personally.

When I brought it up, he said "I wouldn't even know where to start."

What seems natural to me - grab your passport, book an AirBnB and a plane ticket - is for many people an emotionally overwhelming roadblock.

I've managed to emigrate due to my own personal development as well, my family didn't have the means for that and my home country's society is very geared to rich folks getting opportunities: in school, universities, time enough to go through a good higher education, etc. I had to fight against all that and other odds stacked against me and finally "made it" out.

At the same time I felt like you sometimes, people would be fretting a lot about how I'm going to move, all by myself, to a new country, continent, hemisphere, culture and language. And it never phased me, I knew I wanted to do it and the thought that someone would be even a little reluctant on doing it was a bit alien.

Nowadays I can empathise with both mindsets, I'm a bit stuck in the middle: moving out was definitely an amazing and enlightening experience over time but I didn't have that awe about it until hindsight kicked in. Most of the feelings I had when moving were all about excitement and getting to experience new things, people, places.

I share the feeling when boarding the plane for moving and thinking "I made this happen" but I feel it much more intensely and beautifully during moments in my new city (that I've been for about 6 years now) where I look around and realise "I'm here and it's surreal I've made it here". This is the feeling I love the most, and it's constant, since I moved I never stopped catching these moments.

I too find those 3 steps are pretty easy. The problem is that what comes next - "step out of AirBnB and go to a local restaurant" - is total mindkiller for me.

I used to be pretty awkward about this too until I really got it through my head that we’re all just characters in someone else’s play.

So in that sense, it can be a "permanent" change.

I've also found those numbers roughly accurate, even for sub-year extended travel. I spent 6 months teaching in Berlin, and it definitely took a couple of weeks after returning to feel normal again.

Ten years ago I did a 3 months backpack trip in South America with my girlfriend. We left almost everything at home, and during that trip all that mattered to us for the 3 months was in our backpack. Weight and volume was an issue. No room to bring objects unless they has a functional value too. We also experienced stuff being stolen (one camera with the digital pictures, one small bag) and this helps to think about your relationship to objects. That's the kind of life lessons that I did not expect from the trip.