It’s been 40 days since I landed in Singapore—just me, my 18-month-old, and a new, high-pressure role. No helper. No friends nearby. No time to breathe.

I underestimated what “starting over” really meant.

1. The Setup Storm

Imagine this: You arrive in a new country, tasked with setting up an entire life from scratch. New home? Empty condo. Helper? Still searching. Preschool? Nothing locked in. Bank accounts, internet, credit cards, utilities? A checklist that never ends.

Each of these tasks, on its own, is a headache. But when you’re doing all of them at once, while holding down a demanding full-time job and caring for a toddler… it becomes survival mode.

2. Lifestyle Whiplash

In New Zealand, I had space. I drove everywhere. Life was slower. Simpler. Now, I'm in a small condo. No car. Just me, my feet, and the MRT.

The shift is more than logistical—it’s mental. I’ve walked more in these 40 days than in the last 10 years combined. Grocery runs turn into weightlifting sessions. One day, I carried a watermelon in my arms from the supermarket, through the MRT, and up the lift like a sleep-deprived ninja turtle.

And forget impulse purchases for the home. No car means no “quick trip to compare stores for a full-length mirror.” Every errand is a strategic mission.

3. Single Motherhood Amplified

Let’s add another layer of complexity: I’m a single, working mom.

Until just now, I had no helper. That meant juggling:

• 1 toddler

• 1 demanding job

• 2 first-time-visiting parents

• Cooking, cleaning, groceries

• Weekend planning

• Condo furnishing

• Managing everyone's emotional well-being—including my own

At times, I felt like a one-woman multi-AI system—each version of me assigned to a different task, all running in parallel, constantly crashing and rebooting.

4. Money Isn’t the Point (Yet)

“Is it worth it? Do you make more money in Singapore?”

Not exactly. Lower taxes are offset by higher rent and preschool fees. So, financially—it’s even.

But honestly, the math isn’t just numbers. It’s opportunity, exposure, challenge, future.

And some days, I forget why I signed up for this.

5. When Everyone Thinks You're a Local: The Invisibility of Familiarity

Being mistaken for a local should feel like a compliment, right? It means you blend in. You belong.

But in reality, it made me feel invisible.

No one asked, "Where are you from?" No one asked, "What brought you here?" No one asked, "How are you finding it?"

There was no curiosity, no opening for connection—because I looked like I didn’t need one. I wasn’t seen as a newcomer. I was assumed to be “fine.”

And that taught me something subtle but profound: 👉 When you don’t fit the visible mold of an outsider, your struggle stays hidden.

In New Zealand, as a Chinese woman with an accent, people knew I came from elsewhere. Conversations naturally included context, backstory, welcome. Here in Singapore, I look like everyone else. But I carry a completely different story—and it’s easy for that story to get erased before it’s ever heard.

It’s a reminder that belonging and being seen are not the same thing.

We crave both. And in multicultural cities like Singapore, where identity is complex and layered, it’s worth asking:

• How often do we assume someone is "fine" because they look like us?

• How much connection do we miss out on, because we never ask?

This experience has taught me to look deeper, ask more questions, and not assume sameness means ease.

6. So... Why Do This?

That question has echoed in my head more than once: Why did I leave comfort behind? Why uproot a peaceful life?

I don’t have a clear answer—yet.

But I know this: The beginning of any growth curve always feels like chaos. I believe clarity will come. Things will get easier. Space will open. I will adapt. I always do.

And if you’re also in a season of upheaval—whether it’s a move, a new job, or a personal restart—just know: it’s okay to not be okay. You're building something that doesn't exist yet.

Let’s check back in another 40 days. I’m curious who I’ll be by then.

Have you ever started over in a new country—or new phase of life? What helped you survive the chaos?