Existential Migration: Feeling at Home as the Foreigner
I could tell it was time to move on. Eight years I had spent working for the same company. It had been good for both me and them, but times were changing. My boss and mentor had been let go, and the business focus of my department was shifting away from my core skill set. I needed to find something new to do.
This is the position I found myself in during the first few months of 2008. I thought about what I wanted to do next, and came up with a number of options, including moving to another division, moving to another company, starting a new career, starting my own business or going back to school. I spent a month musing on my next move. One idea kept coming forward, getting stronger and stronger as the month progressed. In March, about two weeks before I finally made a final decision on what I would do, I decided to create a list of the options and my thoughts on what I should do next. For one of the options, I wrote the following:
I am part of a community of migrants across the globe, searching out situations where they are strangers in strange lands, all so they can feel at home.
Option: Quit job and move to London.
Analysis: Least sensible option, but for some reason this feels important to do.
That’s exactly what I ended up doing. I moved to London without a job, a place to live or any friends, and I’ve spent the last year sometimes struggling and sometimes thriving as I found a job, made some friends and started to understand English culture. People would sometimes ask me why I did moved from Canada, and I would mumble something about “wanting international work experience” or “hoping to miss the recession by moving abroad,” but the truth was I couldn’t really explain the reason why I did it.
I had moved abroad because I felt like it was what I had to do.
Searching for an Explanation
It has always bothered me somewhat that I haven’t had a better explanation to offer of why I moved abroad. Not for others, but for my own sanity. I have always been a very logical, rational person and have always liked to believe that I am in control of my actions. So faced with the realisation that I did something simply because it “felt right” without any logical or rational explanation had bothered me.
Recently, while surfing the internet for expatriate resources, I came across the definition of “existential migration,” and on reading about it, some of that fuzziness about why I picked up and moved started to clear.
Existential migration is “conceived as a chosen attempt to express something fundamental about existence by leaving one’s homeland and becoming a foreigner.”
According to Dr. Greg Madison, the Canada-born, England-based psychotherapist and counselling psychologist who coined the term, existential migration is “conceived as a chosen attempt to express something fundamental about existence by leaving one’s homeland and becoming a foreigner.” It is different from “economic migration, simple wanderlust, exile, or variations of forced migration” in that it is a chosen move, not driven by economic or political needs.
In developing his theory, Madison held intensive interview sessions with a number of voluntary migrants. These voluntary migrants all, to some degree, said that they felt like they couldn’t have stayed in their home country. They had to go. There was something in them that made them pack up and go. This urge to move was not a result of external compulsion, but due to some internal and unclear motivation. It wasn’t motivated by economic goals like increased standard of living or career advancement. In fact, Madison found that those moving internationally often ended up with a lower standard of living once settled abroad.
Rather, it was a need to live a life that was “self-directed.” By choosing to leave, the migrant has taken control of their life, forcing them to consciously work at daily life, and preventing any slippage into unconscious habit.
For these people, being in a foreign place brings a sense of comfort that they don’t get being at home. For many of them, they always felt like outsiders back in their home towns. Living abroad, they are actually outsiders. By matching their external surroundings to their internal feelings, it allows them to be comfortable with their feelings of being outside. Living abroad allows them to still feel out of place, but at the same time “at home” with that feeling. Being a foreigner allows them to feel as if they both belong and also maintain distance and independence.
The existential migrant – a term which Madison uses reluctantly, as he views existential migration as a process through which people go through, not a persistent condition or pathology to be diagnosed or cured – is a stranger in a strange land. However, they felt like strangers at home, so being a stranger is a “normal” feeling for them. Being abroad brings their external environment into line with their internal feelings.
Madison’s research covers these topics and a number of other topics, including definitions of home, family relationships and the dreaded question “can I ever go home again?” Madison examines the concept of existential migration in varying depths in works available from his website, from a short article to a research paper to a full blown, 70,000 word manuscript called The End of Belonging, currently available for free download. Within the manuscript, in addition to more scholarly works of psychology, Madison mentions some biographies of migrants like Eva Hoffman’s Lost in Translation: A Life in a New Language
Understanding Myself as an Existential Migrant
Reading the material gathered by Madison, and in particular some of the quotes that he had from those who participated in the research, I could certainly see parts of myself in what they were saying. The inexplicable draw to move and the belief that somehow I couldn’t quite live my life the way I wanted back home were feelings that I shared with those in the study, as well as the feeling of being “at home” as the foreigner.
I remember working in Paris back in 2005, a one day journeying with a Muslim co-worker to visit The Great Mosque of Paris. As my friend went in to pray, I wandered around the building, listening to the local Parisian Muslims speaking to each other in French. I remember thinking at that moment how comfortable I was, even though I was about as foreign as I could have been, speaking neither the language nor being part of the religion. I have visited Mosques in Canada, but never felt the same way. In Canada, I always felt like an intruder – I was the “majority” intruding into the space of the “minority.” That visit in Paris, I felt comfortable. As a foreigner, I was an outsider, even though in reality those in the Mosques in Canada and France probably didn’t view my presence there any differently.
Madison’s works have helped me recognize some of the subconscious feelings that I have had over the past few years, and this recognition has allowed me to consciously dissect these feelings. I am able to recognize times when certain “existential” desires like immersing myself in the unfamiliar or the need to jolt myself out of any habitually or mundane behaviours have impacted my decisions.
Reading the work has also helped calm a nagging feeling I have had since moving to London, that perhaps I didn’t go “far enough.” Since arriving, part of me has felt that in choosing to live in London, a place where most of the people look like me and speak my language, I haven’t really fully immersed myself into the foreign. Understanding that what I might be going through is a process, rather than a destination has allowed me to take a much longer view of my journey. London is a step, but the future holds more steps. London is right for now, being here is heading my journey in the right direction, but the journey is far from over.
What Madison’s work doesn’t explain, and perhaps never will be able to explain, is why I and the others he interviewed feel this compulsion to leave and live in the unfamiliar and unknown. Unlike those quoted in the research that Madison undertook, I didn’t feel like an outsider in my homeland. I had friends and was popular throughout my life in Canada, and got along well with my family. Yet, I still felt the desire to leave. I may be able to recognise and logically discuss the existential urges that have driven my migration, but I am no closer to being able to explain why the urges grip me.
I do take some comfort in the knowledge that others out there feel similar urges, though. I don’t know that I am closer to being able to explain my reasoning to my friends, but at least I know I am not alone in what I was feeling. I am part of a community of migrants across the globe, searching out situations where they are strangers in strange lands, all so they can feel at home.
About the author:Greg Wesson is a business traveller with a penchant for fine beers and finely crafted tales of life on the road. Visit his blog: Greg Wesson's Esoteric Globe.
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Posted by Greg from Greg Wesson's Esoteric Globe. on September 22nd, 2009 in Articles.
#1Paola Santos » September 25th, 2009 at 2:24 am:
Great article Greg! I totally relate to this…I moved from Mexico to the UK 6 years ago, and I have always wondering about the unsettling feeling of wanting to be a foreigner. I think the idea of alignment between feeling as a foreigner at home with being a real foreigner in another country makes a lot of sense.
Thanks for publishing and looking forward to more of your posts!
Paola
#2Greg Wesson » September 28th, 2009 at 10:03 pm:
Thanks Paola. Nice to hear from other people who went through a similar experience. As someone who is just new to living abroad (just a little over a year), I’m interested to hear from others about their experiences, as maybe it will provide me a glimpse into my future.
Greg
#3Jodi » September 30th, 2009 at 1:56 am:
Very interesting read, and as a Canadian with a serious wanderlust problem (and years spent living abroad) strangely comforting to know there’s method in our collective madness
In my experience, settling in to a life abroad is easier if the place is starkly different from the one I knew. So living in a small town in the wetlands of South America was at first a shock, but became easy quickly, whereas getting used to NYC took a lot longer. If you haven’t already, check out Network Canada for Cdn expats in London http://www.networkcanada.org/news/main.asp. Jodi
#4UrbanTravelGirl » October 6th, 2009 at 2:46 am:
Greg, MUCHAS GRACIAS y GRAZIE MILLE for this post!! I am SO with you on the “existential migration” feeling. I’m an African-American woman from Chicago who’s lived in Florence, Italy, and dreams of living abroad again. I always tell people that I’m never more comfortable than when I’m away from home, out of my element. I’ve never understood this, but I am SO glad you and Dr. Madison have given voice and a name to this treasured “affliction.” There’s no rational way to explain my longing for life overseas (except that if there is such a thing as past lives, I spent mine in a Mediterranean country). Keep up the great, thoughtful writing — I’m going to print this post and share it with my family when they wonder what happened to this daughter of theirs! LOL
#5Greg Wesson » October 6th, 2009 at 8:39 pm:
Hi Jodi and UrbanTravelGirl!
Glad to see that others have connected with the concept in the same way I have. The research by Dr. Madison was an interesting read. Some of it didn’t connect with me as much as other parts of it, but on the whole it definitely spoke to me and what I had been feeling.
Jodi – I have deliberately been avoiding (for the most part) the Canadian expat community, actually. Nothing against them, but right now I am relishing living as a bit of a unique entity in my life – the only Canadian in London I know. Over time I am sure that my longing for Canadian-esque things will bring me closer to those who also share my background, but for now I am enjoying the lack of any connections back to home.
UrbanTravelGirl – Hopefully my post helps your family understand a little better. If nothing else, its nice to be able to say to your family, “I’m not the only one.”
Cheers,
Greg
#6Milton Wongso » October 13th, 2009 at 9:51 am:
Hi Greg,
I can totally relate to you. I am myself an “existential migrant” from Indonesia to Vancouver, Canada. I have been living in this “strange” land for seven years and loving every piece of it. Although a part of myself wonders if Vancouver is the final destination or whether I should go back to Indonesia – the fact of living somewhere else excites every nerve of mine.
In addition to the excitement of overseas living, I was told once by a fortune teller that my future will be better and better as I move away from my birth land. I don’t buy it 100%. However, I do know that the future of living in a totally strange country is brighter than ever.
So you are not the only one my friend. Life will just get better
#7Frugal Expat in Abu Dhabi » October 20th, 2009 at 5:45 pm:
great article. I have been an expat for almost 7 years now.. and I am hoping to move to a new place soon to explore another culture.
Cheers
#8Double existential migrant? » October 23rd, 2009 at 2:47 pm:
Interesting article, I can certainly relate to it but my situation is a bit more complicated. I emigrated to Australia when I was a kid but with my asian looks and slightly different accent have always felt like an outsider. Nor am I ‘truly’ Asian since I’ve spent most of my life in Aus. And so now I feel neither a local nor a foreigner in Asia or Australia. I feel an urge to move but where should I go to feel at home at being foreign? Africa?
#9Eric » October 27th, 2009 at 3:10 pm:
test comment
#10Eric » October 27th, 2009 at 3:14 pm:
another test
#11Greg Wesson » October 27th, 2009 at 10:47 pm:
@Double existential migrant – That is a situation that a few people mentioned in the research commented on – that they no longer fit in anywhere, as they don’t fit in completely where they live now, nor would they fit in anymore back in their home country.
Unfortunately, the reading I’ve read doesn’t provide an answer for you. It is possible that once a person is migrated, they are stuck being a migrant forever.
#12ExplorerChica » October 29th, 2009 at 9:32 pm:
Wow…! A friend of mine posted this link to her fb space, and it hit the mark with me so accurately that I am still shocked!
It’s good to get a scientific explanation to why I always have to pack up and go, and it is a relief to find out that there are others like me as well! 
You mentioned about wondering if you can go home again, and I can share my experience on that. I have just spent the last 3 years back in my home country after some 6 years living in different countries, and it has been weird. I have felt even more outsider here than I did anywhere else, and though it has been nice to see family and friends more, I am now packing up my bag again. This was an experience, not a totally bad one, but I don’t quite see myself coming back home for a while now, possibly never. I enjoy my “home” country more when I am only a visitor. I guess I enjoy life more, when constantly the other foot out of the door. Though that sounds kinda sad, eh? I mean, may I just have commitment issues, and I disquise it as wanderlust…
Oh well, thanks for the post Greg and happy travels for everyone!
xxx
#13Elina » October 30th, 2009 at 9:45 am:
Thanks a lot for posting this – like the others who have posted a comment, this really hit home with me, as well as a lot of my friends who had the same reaction! As a Finnish person in London, I’ve also long wondered about this, and even talked about it many times with my friends – thanks to you and Dr. Madison we’ve now found an answer! Mind you, I’ve even managed to marry another existential migrant – my British husband says he feels more at home in Finland than he does in the UK… the opposite of me
But between us we’ll figure it out!
#14Greg Wesson » November 5th, 2009 at 10:22 am:
@ExplorerChica – You should check out some of the stuff from Dr. Madison’s site, because he talks about people’s ambivalent feelings towards home. He himself tried to move back to Canada after writing his book, but ended up moving back to England.
Partially, I do think that we perhaps fool ourselves with the “you can always go home again” myth, like there is a safe landing spot there. In reality, in the time we are away the place we came from changes, and so do we. You can never step in the same river twice, for it is always moving, as they say.
@Elina – Maybe you should pick a place in between the two countries?
#15cynthia in the french alps » November 23rd, 2009 at 8:09 pm:
Very, very interesting article. I moved to Italy when I was 38 – just sold everything, packed 2 suitcases and 2 cats and got on a plane. I spent 2 years there but had a difficult time of it due to the work issues and no work permit. But I’ve always felt more at home in Italy than anywhere else. Now I live in France – married a Frenchman- and am having a harder time of it since I don’t relate or feel at home in the French culture. It is very different from American culture, esp in the French Alps region. I guess as I get older, community and a sense of belonging becomes more important than what was a priority 12 years ago which was a sense of ‘aliveness’ and adventure. Cynthia in the French Alps
#16Melvin Q » November 30th, 2009 at 9:50 pm:
As Mason Cooley said, “Travelers never think that THEY are the foreigners.”
http://www.quotepotato.com/quotes/travelers-never-think-that-they-are-the-foreigners
#17Lee » December 1st, 2009 at 9:31 am:
A beautiful post. I found myself feeling this amazing sense of connection when I travel for the longest time. I never really understood it until I read this article. Frankly I just feel more like other people when I travel because when Im around strangers travelling, they are strangers to. The immediate sense everyone around you shares something in common makes me feel.. at home. No matter when or where I go somewhere away from home or specifically out of country, Im happy.
Im curious how long these sensations will last. Its a beautiful feeling indeed being free.
#18Greg Wesson » December 9th, 2009 at 11:12 pm:
Seeing as Melvin Q brought up a quote, I will respond in kind. I think it addresses what Lee and the other commenters have said as well.
“The ideal place for me is the one in which it is most natural to live as a foreigner.” Italo Calvino, Italian journalist and writer
#19Kevin » January 16th, 2010 at 1:50 am:
I go back and forth from Cancun to Miami a lot and feel the same sentiments as the poster.
#20Leslie » February 16th, 2010 at 10:47 pm:
A lovely post. I’m living the expat life in Laos and you said it perfectly–I feel most at home now, as a stranger in a increasingly not so strange land. Thank you.
#21Cynthia » February 23rd, 2010 at 12:27 pm:
Hi Greg!
This was an interesting post! I sometimes get those feelings of moving somewhere foreign as well, but fear gets to me and I just decide to stay where I am. I currently live in the Bay Area and for some reason I’ve always wanted to live in Canada. Maybe.. SOMEDAY I will go for it and DO IT!
#22Amy » March 10th, 2010 at 4:07 pm:
I totally relate to this. I just came back from backpacking through Australia traveling on a 3 month working Visa. I was kinda lost for a little bit when I first got there. By the end I made a community for myself but it was hard. I did however find a backpacking tourism company (I think it was called Travellers Contact Point) that planned my tours so I could go in a group and that made me feel a little less lonely. Especially because you wind up traveling with other foreigners. They also picked me up from the airport with a personalized welcome packet, which was pretty cool. I recommend doing something like that and if you choose to go to Australia like me on the working Visa look them up. They were really helpful
#23Heather GG » May 5th, 2010 at 4:14 pm:
So there is a name for what I’ve felt since I was a little girl! Thanks for writing this and the links to Madison’s work. Will be doing much reading/research. I couldn’t stop nodding my head as I read Pico Iyer’s Global Souls, I’m sure I’ll feel the same about existential migration.
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