5 Things I Learned About Myself After Moving Abroad as a Black Man
Marcus, PA
Traveler Details: Age Range: Early 20s | Food Preferences: Adventurous eater, soulful comfort foods, enjoys local cafes | First-time solo expat | Prioritizes mental health and emotional growth | Seeking belonging, safety, and slower living abroad | Black-American man | Moved to Portugal | Low-to-mid budget | Reserved, observant
I didn’t relocate to Portugal to escape. I moved because I wanted clarity—room to breathe, think, and live without constantly being on edge. As a Black man in America, peace often feels conditional. Moving abroad gave me the chance to experience something different. These are the five most important things I’ve learned about myself since making that decision.
1. Freedom Feels Different When You’re Not Watched
In the U.S., I was always calculating how I might be perceived. From how I dressed to how I code-switched, I was used to existing under surveillance.
After a few months in Lisbon, I noticed something subtle but powerful: people weren’t reacting to me. No one crossed the street when I approached. No one gave me that tense glance that always meant, “What’s he doing here?” It was one of the first times in my adult life that I felt genuinely unbothered in public space. That sense of freedom shifted something in me.
2. Masculinity Feels Less Like a Performance
I grew up thinking masculinity meant stoicism, toughness, and being unshakable at all times. Abroad, I had the chance to redefine that. Conversations with men from different countries—Brazil, Germany, Nigeria—showed me there are healthier, softer ways to exist as a man. I started journaling more, showing emotion in public, and admitting when I felt overwhelmed. Living abroad allowed me to explore a version of manhood that includes peace and vulnerability—not just power.
Traveler’s Journal for Men – Soft leather-bound, minimalist, and perfect for daily reflections.
3. Alone does not always mean lonely
There were definitely weeks when I barely spoke to anyone face-to-face. It was disorienting at first, especially after leaving behind a tight-knit community. Yet, in the stillness, I started to hear myself more clearly. I realized how much noise I had internalized. Without constant distraction, I found room to heal. I picked up new hobbies, joined local meetups, and started having deeper conversations—both with others and with myself.
4. Being the Only One Can Be Exhausting, Yet Meaningful
There’s no denying it: visibility comes with weight. I stood out almost everywhere I went. Whether it was at the gym, a restaurant, or simply walking down the street—there were often stares.
Still, those moments of being “the only one” offered another perspective. A quiet nod from another Black man at a train station. A compliment on my locs from a young local. A shared glance with someone who didn’t speak English—but understood the feeling. Those interactions reminded me that while I might be rare in the space, I wasn’t alone in the experience.
5. True Peace Shouldn’t Be a Luxury
Back in the U.S., I didn’t realize how much I was operating in survival mode. The constant sense of urgency, the noise, the tension—it all felt normal until it stopped. Living abroad, I sleep better. I eat slower. My shoulders aren’t constantly tight. I don’t wake up with the same sense of dread or anticipation.
This isn’t about glamorizing life overseas or pretending every moment is perfect. It’s about acknowledging that Black men deserve emotional wellness, safety, and a lifestyle that doesn’t feel like a battle.
Safety Tip: I always carry a portable door lock for peace of mind in hotels and short-term rentals. It’s lightweight and highly recommended. View it here.
Final Thought
Relocating abroad has taught me more about who I am than I ever imagined. It wasn’t a magic fix, but it gave me something I rarely felt at home—mental clarity. To other Black men considering the leap: the world isn’t perfect, and neither is life abroad. But there is a version of you on the other side of this decision that’s worth meeting.You deserve stillness. You deserve safety. You deserve space. And if this blog finds you at the edge of that decision, just know—you’re not the only one.
