15/09/2026
We are finally getting into the part where we’re truly settling into life here in Valencia, and I can see it now.
I can see the life we could have here long-term. I can see being very happy here — not just for a few years, but maybe forever.
There is still a part of my heart that feels deeply aligned with the UK, and I don’t think that will ever fully go away. But especially right now, while the girls are four and five and still so little, there is something incredibly special about childhood in Spain.
You can talk about the crowded plazas full of kids after school.
You can talk about the way teachers welcome your children every morning and how genuinely cared for they feel.
You can talk about the random little gifts, treats and bits of kindness they’re constantly given by shopkeepers and strangers.
You can talk about playgrounds everywhere, where your kids can play while you sit nearby with a coffee or dinner.
You can talk about restaurants happily trying to make something simple for your picky eater instead of acting like your child is an inconvenience.
You can talk about how easy it is to live without a car — how you can just walk out your front door with two children and go somewhere without buckling everyone into car seats, driving, parking, unloading, and doing it all over again.
You can talk about the safety.
You can talk about how children are allowed to be loud and messy and take up space. Of course there are grumpy people everywhere, but overall, kids feel like they are expected to exist here.
And I still don’t think any of that fully paints the picture until you’re actually here with your children and watching them experience it.
Childhood feels protected and nurtured here.
Kids get to be kids.
The amount of random kindness my girls experience on a regular basis honestly still surprises me.
But lately, it isn’t only about the kids.
The weather has finally cooled down enough that we’re still in tank tops and shorts, but my eyeballs are no longer sweating 😂 and I feel like I can actually exist in the city again. We can walk around, explore, sit outside, and enjoy where we live without feeling like we’re melting.
We’re also getting into a real routine.
As freelance consultants, we have so much more control over the structure of our days. The girls are at school from around 9 until late afternoon, which gives us time to work, but also time to take care of ourselves.
We can work out. We can walk. We can have lunch together. We can actually build a life around our work instead of building our entire life around work.
And I see other people living that way here too.
The number of parents I see dropping their kids at school and then heading to the gym or sitting down for a coffee before starting their workday makes it feel like there is simply a different rhythm to life.
That doesn’t mean everything here is cheap. It absolutely isn’t, and Spain is dealing with a cost-of-living crisis too.
But I do think it can be easier to exist here with less.
A smaller apartment feels normal.
Not owning a car feels normal.
Walking everywhere feels normal.
Eating a €2 bocadillo for lunch feels normal.
There is something about life here that makes a smaller, more minimalist existence feel less like deprivation and more like… enough.
And that shift has affected my work too.
My consulting is focused largely on helping businesses understand AI adoption, data science, and how to make smarter decisions around technology. And I’m realizing how much more rewarding it feels to work with smaller businesses and organizations that genuinely need that expertise but could never justify hiring someone like me full-time.
Because our cost of living and lifestyle are different now, I don’t necessarily need to chase the biggest salary or work 40, 50, 60 hours a week.
I can work fewer hours.
I can charge in a way that makes sense for smaller organizations.
I can still use everything I spent years learning and building expertise in — but without sacrificing my entire life to do it.
There is still a lot about moving abroad that is difficult.
There is bureaucracy. There is homesickness. There are language barriers. There are financial stresses. There are moments when everything feels harder simply because you’re doing it in another country.
Moving abroad did not magically fix my life.
But I think moving abroad gave me the reset I needed to learn how I actually wanted to live it.
For me, moving abroad meant my nervous system could relax.
It meant feeling safer.
It meant slowing down.
It meant spending more time with my family.
It meant questioning the idea that the goal of life should always be more money, more space, more stuff, more productivity.
And in a lot of ways, moving abroad became the catalyst I needed to finally learn how to enjoy my life while I’m living it.
We’re only just starting to understand what our real everyday life in Valencia is going to look like.
And honestly?
It feels really, really good.
I’m genuinely excited about the future.
