Why I Left Australia

For most of my life, I believed in the idea of the “lucky country.” That’s what we’re told growing up—that Australia is the dream. A beautiful, safe, easygoing place where if you work hard, everything will fall into place. And for a long time, I believed it. I lived it. But somewhere along the way, that feeling started to crack.

I didn’t leave Australia on a whim. It wasn’t because I hated it. It wasn’t because of some big dramatic fallout. It was a slow, creeping realization that the life I was building there wasn’t the life I actually wanted.

It felt like no matter how hard I worked, I was running in place. The cost of living kept rising—rent, groceries, even something as simple as a night out started feeling ridiculous. And it wasn’t just the money. It was this deep feeling that I was trading more and more of my life away just to barely stay afloat.

People often say, “everywhere’s expensive now,” and yeah, to some degree that’s true. But Australia started to feel like the costs weren’t matching the life you were getting back. Public services were slipping. Cities were overcrowded but somehow lonelier. Community felt thinner. And honestly? That old sense of freedom that Australia was so proud of—it didn’t feel real anymore. It felt marketed. Packaged up and sold back to you at double the price.

I also felt trapped creatively. It was like unless your creativity could turn a profit, it didn’t matter. Taking risks—starting something new, chasing an idea, even traveling for inspiration—felt irresponsible. Everything around me was quietly pressuring people into the same narrow path: steady job, mortgage, grind, repeat. And if you didn’t want that? You started to feel like the odd one out.

At some point, I realized I wasn’t chasing a dream anymore—I was trying to convince myself to accept a life that deep down, I didn’t want. A life built on surviving, not thriving. In a system that didn’t really care whether you burned out or grew—as long as you kept paying.

The final straw wasn’t one single event. It was a slow build-up. It was watching people around me shrink their dreams smaller and smaller just to make life “work.” It was the quiet apathy that crept in everywhere—friends, colleagues, even strangers—this unspoken acceptance that things are just harder now, and we should all just get used to it.

Meanwhile, that voice inside me kept getting louder. 💭 What if there’s more out there? What if life doesn’t have to be this heavy?

Look—I get it. Change is scary. It’s easier to stay where it’s familiar, even if you’re unhappy. You can tell yourself a million reasons why it’s safer to stick it out: because you have friends here, because you have a steady income, because you don’t want to start from scratch.

And honestly, for a while, I told myself all of that too. I stayed longer than I should have. Because even when you’re miserable, the idea of throwing yourself into the unknown feels bigger and scarier than the slow sadness you already know.

But here’s the thing: Fear of change can keep you stuck in a life that’s way smaller than the one you’re capable of living. And when I really sat with that… I realized staying was the bigger risk. Because staying meant slowly giving up pieces of myself. It meant accepting a version of life that didn’t light me up anymore.

I didn’t leave because I had everything figured out. I didn’t leave because I was sure it would be easy. I left because I knew I owed it to myself to at least try.

Places like Vietnam gave me the reset I needed. Life felt lighter again. I could stretch my money further. I could meet new people, build new dreams, make mistakes and still get back up again. And most importantly—I got my energy back. The kind of creative, hopeful energy that you can’t fake. The kind that makes you want to wake up in the morning and actually live. Curious about how I manage life abroad? Check out my budget travel tips!

I’ll always have love for Australia. It’s where I’m from. But sometimes loving something means being honest about when it no longer fits.

Maybe Australia changed. Maybe I changed. Maybe both.

But either way—I knew I couldn’t stay and pretend everything was fine.

I was searching for something more meaningful—something real. And to find it, I had to be willing to walk away from the safe, comfortable version of life that wasn’t making me happy anymore.

So I left. And yeah—it was scary. It still is, sometimes. But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not just surviving anymore. I’m actually living.

I poured more of these thoughts into a vlog—check it out below:

Why I’m Leaving Australia

This video dives deeper into my reasons for leaving and what I’m chasing abroad—hope it resonates!

And if there’s even a small voice inside you asking if there might be something more out there for you too—listen to it. You don’t have to stay stuck. You don’t have to settle. Change is scary, yeah. But sometimes, it’s the best thing you’ll ever do.

If you’re feeling stuck, restless, or lost—you’re not broken. You’re just waking up to the fact that life is supposed to feel bigger than this. And maybe, just maybe, you’re braver than you think.

So, what’s your story? 🌍 Are you feeling that itch to break free? Drop a comment on my YouTube channel or hit me up via my contact form. Let’s inspire each other!