Written by Rita Serra | Published Mar 13, 2026

Let me be honest with you, and I mean really honest.

Because if you’ve been scrolling through Instagram watching women sip coffee on European terraces, wandering cobblestone streets with a linen tote bag and a sun hat, you might think living abroad is one long, beautiful exhale. And sometimes, genuinely, it is.

But sometimes it’s sitting alone in your apartment on a Tuesday night, listening to the wind off the Ionian Sea, wondering why you feel so empty when you live somewhere that looks like a postcard.

I’ve been living abroad solo in Saranda, Albania, for over five years now. Five years. I’ve watched friendships form and dissolve. I’ve battled bureaucracy that made me want to scream into a pillow. I’ve had moments of pure, electric joy, and moments where I questioned absolutely everything.

So this post isn’t the highlight reel. This is the real thing. And I’m writing it because I think you deserve to know what you’re actually signing up for before you book that one-way ticket.

The Reality of Building Community When Living Abroad Solo

When I first moved to Albania, it was during COVID. And here’s the thing about COVID that nobody talks about in the expat context: it was actually, weirdly, a golden era for expat communities.

The world had paused. People weren’t moving around. They were settling. And Albania, with its low cost of living, its stunning coastline, and its relative freedom during lockdown, became a magnet for digital nomads and expats from all over the world. And for the first time, living abroad solo felt genuinely easy.

I made friends fast. More friends than I’d made in years back home. We went to dinners together. We cooked together. We explored. It felt like the best version of a life I’d always wanted.

Then COVID ended. And people started moving again.

One by one, then in waves, the people I’d built my life around packed up and left. The community that had felt so solid turned out to have been held together by circumstance, not roots. And I was left in a much quieter version of the place I’d fallen in love with.

Here’s what I’ve learned: expat communities are transient by nature. That’s just the reality. People come, people go, and if you’re someone who stayed, like me, you have to be prepared to keep starting over, socially, again and again.

And I’ll tell you something else nobody warns you about: the expat community isn’t always what you’d hope. It can feel like high school all over again: cliques, drama, gossip. I choose not to engage with that. I’d rather have two or three real friendships with locals and fellow long-termers than be part of a social scene that exhausts me.

But finding those real friendships? It takes time. It takes putting yourself out there when you’d rather stay in. It takes energy that, some days, you just don’t have.

The Loneliness Is Real: Even When You Love Your Life

I want to be careful here, because the last thing I want to do is make living abroad solo sound impossible. I have friends here. I have a life here. I genuinely love Albania, and I have no regrets about moving.

But loneliness and loving your life are not mutually exclusive. I’ve learned that the hard way.

It shows up in small moments, mostly. A birthday that’s celebrated with people who’ve known you for two years instead of twenty. A holiday where you FaceTime your family and pretend it doesn’t sting to see them all together in your mom’s kitchen. A Sunday morning when the whole town feels quiet, and you realize there’s nobody to just call up and say, “Want to grab coffee?”

And Saranda, where I live, is a small beach town. In summer, it’s alive. The restaurants are open, the beach is full, the energy is there. But in winter? It goes quiet. Really quiet. And if you’re not someone who is deeply comfortable in solitude, and some days I’m not, those winters can feel very long.

This is something I wish someone had told me more explicitly. The city you choose matters as much as the country. A big expat hub like Tirana, Lisbon, or Medellín has more going on year-round. A small beach town like Saranda is magical in summer and can feel isolating in winter. Know which one you actually need.

I’ve also had to grieve the version of connection I had back home. My family. My old friends. The shorthand you only get from people who’ve known you your whole life. No amount of beautiful Albanian sunsets replaces that. You carry those people with you, but you also learn to live with the ache of missing them.

The Bureaucracy Will Test Your Patience: And Sometimes Your Sanity

I want to laugh as I write this, because honestly, bureaucracy abroad is one of those things that sounds manageable until you’re actually living it.

Visa renewals. Residency permits. Bank accounts that require documents that require other documents. Rules that change without notice. Offices that are “open” but nobody answers. Forms in a language you don’t speak, for a system that doesn’t always make sense even to the locals.

Albania is actually more straightforward than a lot of countries, and I’m still perpetually navigating paperwork. If you’re thinking of moving somewhere with more complex visa requirements, go in with your eyes wide open about what that process looks like, and budget both time and money for it.

The language barrier is part of this, too. I’ve been here five years, and my Albanian is still basic. Albanian is a genuinely difficult language; it’s not like picking up Spanish, where you can get by quickly. Most younger Albanians speak English, which helps. But the moment you need to navigate something official or local, you feel the gap acutely.

My advice: find a local person you trust who can help you navigate systems when you need it. Build that relationship before you need it urgently. It has saved me more than once.

The Financial Reality Is Not Always Pretty

Here’s something I’ll admit openly: there have been stretches living abroad where money was scary. Like, genuinely scary.

When your income is remote and variable, freelance work, blogging, and social media management, there’s no safety net in the way there might be back home. No family nearby to call in a pinch. No familiar healthcare system. No credit history in the country you’re living in.

Albania’s low cost of living is one of its biggest draws, and it’s real. My rent is a fraction of what I’d pay in the US. Food is affordable. Life here doesn’t cost much. But “affordable” doesn’t mean “free,” and when income dips, even low costs feel high.

I’ve genuinely had to ask myself: what happens if this doesn’t work? What’s my backup plan? Do I have savings that could get me home if I needed to go? These are not fun questions to sit with, but they’re responsible ones.

The romantic version of living abroad solo doesn’t include these conversations. I’m including it here because I think financial resilience, not just financial freedom, is one of the most important things to build before you make a move like this.

After Five Years Living Abroad Solo, I’m Ready For Something New

Here’s the most honest thing I’ll say in this whole post: I’ve been in Albania for five years, and I’m starting to feel stagnant. I want something new. I want a bigger city, more to do, more opportunities to grow. I love Albania, I really do, but I’m not sure it’s where I build the next chapter.

And you know what? That’s okay. That’s allowed.

One thing living abroad solo has taught me is that your needs evolve. The place that was perfect for you at one stage of your life might not be perfect for the next stage. The version of me who arrived in Albania during COVID needed exactly what Saranda offered. The version of me today needs something different.

This life is not a destination. It’s a practice. You’re constantly adjusting, reassessing, deciding. That can feel exhausting, or it can feel like freedom, depending on the day.

So… Should You Move Abroad Solo?

Yes. If it’s calling you, yes. Living abroad solo is genuinely one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

But go in knowing the full picture. Go in knowing that the community you build might shift beneath you. That loneliness will visit even when you love your life. That bureaucracy will test you. That money stress doesn’t disappear just because your rent is cheap. The city you choose matters enormously.

Go in knowing all of that and then go anyway. Because the version of yourself that comes out the other side? She’s someone worth meeting.

I’m over 5 years into living abroad solo, thinking about my next move, still figuring it out. And I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

If you’re thinking about taking the leap, start by reading How to Move Abroad as an American and Debating on Moving Abroad. Find the Best Country for You. Both will give you a grounded, real-world picture of what the process actually looks like.