I always thought raising my child abroad would be a gift—new experiences, new languages, a richer world for him to grow up in. And in many ways, it is. But there’s a part of this journey that no one really warned me about: how quietly overwhelming it can feel to be a mother, alone in a new country, carrying everything without a map.

I moved to Germany with my husband, full of hopes and plans. We were excited. A new chapter. But as the months passed, I found myself sinking. The playground chatter I couldn’t quite follow, the forms from kindergarten I struggled to fill out, the doctor visits where I had to Google every other word—each little moment chipped away at me.

I missed my own language. I missed family who could just drop by. I missed friends who knew me—not just as someone’s mom or someone’s wife, but as me. And the hardest part was pretending I was fine. Because I was grateful, wasn’t I? I had a healthy child. A safe home. So why did I feel so numb?

I didn’t notice it at first. I just felt tired. Not just physically—but in my bones. I stopped wanting to meet new people. I didn’t even recognize myself in the mirror most days. I was still functioning—packing lunches, pushing swings, reading bedtime stories—but inside, I felt like a ghost.

It took me a long time to name it. Depression. Not homesickness. Not “adjustment stress.” Not weakness.

Depression.

When I finally opened up—to a friend, to a therapist, to myself—it was like unclenching a fist I didn’t know I had been holding for years. I learned that depression doesn’t mean you’re not a good mother. It just means you’re carrying too much, for too long, without rest or recognition.

Little by little, I started to rebuild. I carved out time for myself, even if it was just 10 minutes with tea and silence. I found other moms who felt the same—online, in small meetups, through late-night voice notes. I started writing again, even when the words came slow. And I reminded myself daily: I don’t have to do this perfectly. I just have to keep showing up—with honesty, with love, and sometimes, with tears.

If you’re a mother in a new country and you’re feeling lost, I see you. If you feel like you’re failing because you’re struggling, please know: you are not. You’re human. You’re brave. And you are not alone.