Choosing a different life doesn’t mean avoiding hard things. Ben and Claire share the emotional, financial and practical trade-offs that came with leaving the UK as a family.

It would be easy to write this whole publication as a highlight reel. We’re not going to do that, because it wouldn’t be honest, and it wouldn’t be useful to the families reading it who are trying to work out whether something like this is actually right for them.

So here’s what different has genuinely cost us, not romanticised, not minimised.

A decade of security, paused

Claire spent ten years building a career as a Band 7 occupational therapist in the NHS, a good wage, a role she was skilled at, real professional standing. Taking a career break didn’t erase that, but it did mean stepping away from the routine and identity that came with it, and doing so knowing there’s a real return date sitting on the calendar in September 2027, whether or not we choose to use it. That’s not nothing. That’s a genuine trade-off, made consciously.

Closeness to family, replaced with effort

Claire’s parents live around the corner from us. We used to see them daily. They helped with the children regularly. Telling them we were leaving was, understandably, one of the harder conversations we had, we knew it would be more difficult for them than for Ben’s side of the family, simply because of how entwined our day-to-day lives were. They’ve been proud and supportive throughout, but we’ve had to consciously build in what closeness now looks like from a distance: scheduled visits throughout the year, regular FaceTimes and phone calls, our children sending voice notes to friends back home. None of that replaces living around the corner from each other. It’s a different shape of connection, not an equivalent one.

The physical cost of slowing down

This one surprised us. We’d assumed the hard part of this decision would be the leaving. It turned out the adjusting was its own cost entirely, and it showed up differently in each of us. Within our first month in Spain, Claire became genuinely unwell, cold and flu-like symptoms that lingered for a couple of weeks. Our best explanation is that a body used to running on adrenaline most days doesn’t simply relax the moment the busyness stops; it has to physically process the change. Later in the trip, Ben came down with vertigo badly enough to need hospital treatment in Madrid. None of this was catastrophic, but it was real, and it’s the kind of cost that doesn’t show up in a spreadsheet.

Constant togetherness, without a break button

We have our children with us twenty-four hours a day. Most of the time, that’s exactly the point, it’s the whole reason we’re doing this. But it is also, honestly, tiring. Moving frequently is hard on everyone. Small logistics, finding somewhere to do laundry, working out where dinner’s coming from, can tip into bickering in a way they never used to at home, simply because there’s no separate space to retreat to when you need one.

Plans, repeatedly undone

We lost money, not large amounts, but real amounts, from changing our minds. A few hundred pounds from leaving accommodation a day early and rebooking elsewhere. Around £400 lost cancelling a flight to Italy once our route changed. These aren’t disasters, but they are the ongoing, unglamorous cost of a life that doesn’t move in straight lines anymore. If anything, we’re glad we came up against these small, low-stakes lessons this early, better to learn how flexible we actually need to be now, while the cost of getting it wrong is a few hundred pounds, than further into the trip when the stakes might be higher.

What we’d say to it all

None of this has made us want to turn around. If anything, naming it clearly is what makes the choice feel sustainable rather than fragile, because we’re not pretending it’s easy, we’re just deciding it’s worth it. That’s the distinction we think matters most: different isn’t free of cost. It’s just a cost we chose, with our eyes open, instead of one that was simply handed to us.

What else is possible, once you stop expecting a meaningful choice to come without a price?

Frequently Asked Questions

Is moving abroad with children difficult?

Yes. For us, the biggest challenges weren’t the travel itself but adjusting to a new routine, spending every day together and being further away from family.

Do you regret leaving the UK?

No. While we’ve experienced challenges and trade-offs, we still believe the decision was the right one for our family.

Is travelling with children as easy as social media makes it look?

Not always. There are incredible moments, but there are also difficult days, unexpected costs and plenty of ordinary family life in between.

What’s the hardest part of long-term family travel?

For us, it wasn’t one single thing. It was adjusting to a completely different rhythm of life while staying connected to family back home.

Is moving abroad worth it?

Only you can answer that. For us, acknowledging the costs rather than pretending they didn’t exist has made the experience far more sustainable.

Related reading: The Turning Point: How We Finally Decided to Leave · Beyond the Postcard: The Weeks Nobody Documents · Why We Stopped Planning Ahead