Having hot piping tea at a roadside tea stall, a group of friends, some in their mid and some at start of the careers, discussing options of how to move to another country. Some wondering which country to move, some discussing different visas that can help in moving abroad as soon as possible, one of us worried about how they would manage next month’s expenses, given the increasing prices of almost everything and salaries being unchanged, another friend is trying to find cheap options to migrate, and then me stuck on the decision whether to leave or not to leave.
I never imagined I’d find myself here, standing at the edge of a decision that felt as vast and uncertain as the ocean I might one day cross. Leaving my country was a thought that used to drift lazily at the back of my mind, like a distant cloud on a clear day—visible but never threatening. Now, it looms over me like a storm I can’t ignore.
I’ve spent the past three years living in Islamabad, a city known for its stunning scenery and serene ambiance. The lush greenery and majestic Margalla Hills create a breathtaking backdrop, offering a sense of peace and calm that few other places can. It’s a city that blends the modern with the traditional, and its beauty is undeniable. Yet, even in the most beautiful city in Pakistan, there are moments when the distance from my family feels overwhelming. It’s hard to put into words, but sometimes living far from home creates an emptiness that even the most stunning landscapes can’t fill.
Three years ago, I moved to Islamabad for work, chasing opportunities and dreams that seemed just out of reach in my small hometown. The initial excitement was exhilarating—the chance to carve out a new life in a city full of possibilities. But that excitement has slowly been replaced by a persistent ache, a longing for the familiar comforts of home. My family is back in another province, where life moves at a more leisurely pace, and everyone knows everyone. I used to think that being in Islamabad, with its opportunities and charm, would make the distance easier to bear. But nothing can substitute for the warmth of my mother’s hug, the sound of my father’s voice, or the chaos of family gatherings.
When I first moved to Islamabad, it was meant to be a temporary arrangement—a stepping stone to better opportunities, a brief chapter in my life story. I told myself it was just for a year, maybe two, before I’d return home to the familiar embrace of family and friends. But here I am today, three years later, still in this beautiful city, with no concrete plans to return. The temporary has stretched into the indefinite, and I wonder if moving abroad will follow the same pattern. What if a move overseas, meant to be a short-term solution, turns into something permanent? The thought fills me with both hope and dread. Hope, for the possibilities that a new life might bring, and dread, for the fear of losing touch with the people and places that have shaped me. I find myself questioning whether I can create a new home in a foreign land, whether I can build new bonds that rival the depth and warmth of those I’ve left behind. Will I find a community that feels like family, or will I always be caught between two worlds, forever longing for the one I left behind?
Now, with the economic situation growing more uncertain, I find myself standing at a crossroads. The idea of moving abroad, once unthinkable, has started to creep into my thoughts.
Friends who have already taken the leap send back stories of better jobs, safer streets, and a chance at a more stable future. It’s tempting, undeniably so.
But even though I’m already far from home, the decision to move abroad feels infinitely more daunting. It’s not just about distance—it’s about uprooting everything I’ve ever known, stepping into a world that feels foreign and unknown. The thought of leaving the familiar behind, of trading the comfort of my language and culture for something so different, is terrifying.
Moving to Islamabad was a challenge, but moving to another country feels like a leap into the abyss. Will I find a place to belong, a community that feels like home? Or will the distance from my family, from everything I hold dear, become an unbearable weight?
These thoughts swirl in my mind as I weigh the possibilities. It’s a decision that could change everything, for better or worse. And as I stand here, in this beautiful city that feels both like a gift and a burden, I realize that no matter what choice I make, part of me will always be caught between two worlds.
Thoughts of a small town girl, who wants to take big risks but is also afraid.
