• Leslie Hodgin and her husband had dreamed of moving abroad.
• They finally took the leap in January, deciding not to waste time in their 50s.
• Hodgin said the move was expensive and time-consuming, but she's been happy with their relocation.

This story is based on an interview with Leslie Hodgin, a 55-year-old marketing consultant who moved from the US to the Netherlands with her husband, John Lyman, 52. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Until 2026, I was living in Richmond, Virginia, with my husband and our cat.

My dad was in the Army, so I grew up all over the world, but Richmond is my adopted home. I lived there for about 10 years.

During that time, I got an offer to move to Seoul, South Korea, for my marketing job. My husband, John, and I were dating at the time. We got married one week before moving to Seoul for two years.

After the contract ended, we returned to the States. I love Richmond, but it did feel small after I had been in Korea.

Some events happened in both of our families that made us want to move abroad again sooner rather than later. My dad died. My husband's mom died. We had a couple of dear friends pass away. It was all very quick. And it made me think, "What are we waiting for? We don't have promises for tomorrow. Now is the time."

We don't have kids, so that wasn't holding us back. We had some money in the bank to move, which I know is a privilege. It was like, "Let's just go and live our lives. We shouldn't just keep hoping for someday because there may not be someday."

Moving to the Netherlands

John had gone to graduate school in the Netherlands, so we'd visited before. Through my work in advertising, I also had a fairly large network of people living there.

There's a visa for Americans called the Dutch-American Friendship Treaty (DAFT) that allows freelancers and entrepreneurs to live in the Netherlands. It made the country seem like a great choice for us.

My husband works for himself, so it was easier for him to pick up and go anywhere. I started my own consulting business and left my agency. I knew there was an advertising community in the Netherlands, and I planned to freelance if my consulting business wasn't doing well.

My husband's dad is in his 90s, and my mom just turned 80. Moving far from them was probably the hardest part of the decision. I have a little guilt for that, but they're excited for us. I've promised my mom that I'll be home for any big family and important events.

That's a hard thing to do, but we felt it was right for us not to put our lives on hold.

Downsizing our lives

We moved in January. We did it in six months. We'd sold our house about a year before moving and were living in an apartment.

We decided to sell almost everything we owned to keep costs as low as possible. We shipped a half-crate over, which is quite small, so we had to get rid of a lot of stuff. We made close to $12,000 selling everything and used it to pay for the visas and help with some of the moving costs.

When we moved, we had nine suitcases, including a large piece of art. It was the largest oversize item that would fit on an airplane, and we had a special museum-packing company pack it. And our cat, of course, came on the plane with us.

We live in a two-bedroom apartment. It's an old, old building, but the apartment is newly renovated and has a patio.

We do feel lucky that we found a place because there is a housing shortage, and it's quite hard to find housing, particularly if you're American or from another country and you don't have Dutch income. We had to pay six months' rent upfront to secure our rental.

Life in Europe

It still feels surreal that we live here. My husband and I will frequently look at each other and say, "Oh my God, I can't believe that we're here." I never want to lose that feeling.

Business seems to be going really well. I also already knew some friends, but I've met so many amazing people through social media and made some great friends with our neighbors.

We love the sense of community. I appreciate the social contract that people afford each other in the Netherlands, from the opportunities the government provides to the respect and trust they show each other in general.

Recently, there was Open Monumentendag, or Open Monuments Day, with over a thousand monuments, churches, houses, farms, and historic places across the Netherlands open to the public for free. They do that every year, and it feels so special. It seems like every other weekend there's a festival.

There are always challenges. I'm very slow to pick up the language. Most people speak English, but I feel like I need to be better.

Moving also costs a lot more than you plan for. Even if you've tried to pad all the numbers, it still costs more than anticipated. Because our work was quite slow earlier in the year, we were like, "Gosh, what have we done?"

Our cost of living is fairly similar to what it was in the US. We don't have a car, so we don't have that expense. We would be paying double the rent in New York City for this same apartment.

A fresh start

I feel alive again. I felt a little stagnant in Richmond after living overseas, and moving has opened a lot of doors for my creativity.

On social media, I've documented trying one new thing a week. It's gotten us out to meet people and have some interesting experiences.

There's a risk in moving abroad. You have to get yourself over the hump, and you have to be brave.

Believe in yourself. If there's something you want to try, like moving overseas, going on a solo trip, or taking a cooking class, take a chance on yourself. You're never going to regret trying it if it doesn't work out. If you don't ever put yourself out there, you're going to look back in 20 years and be like, "That would have been great. Why didn't I give that a shot?"

• Moving to Barcelona from Los Angeles six years ago has come with a few culture shocks.
• At first, I struggled with businesses taking midday breaks and most shops being closed on Sundays.
• Eventually, I adapted. I now appreciate breaks and feel less pressure to optimize all my time.

I had 30 minutes left on my lunch break — just enough time to squeeze in a new errand before I had to get back to work. I had only recently moved to Barcelona, and I really needed to get an extra key made for my new roommate.

I typed "locksmith" into Google Maps and rushed out the door. I zigzagged through the narrow streets of my neighborhood trying to find the place. I checked my watch and saw I only had 20 minutes.

I picked up my pace and finally arrived at the small shop. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and reached for the door, but it wouldn't budge.

I peeked in through the window and saw no one. I knocked several times, and with each knock, I was becoming more frustrated, knowing I was losing precious time.

I opened Google Maps again to look up the store's phone number and saw its hours. I was dumbfounded; the store was open from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. and then again from 5 to 8 p.m.

I was so angry — I had wasted my lunch break and didn't even accomplish what I set out to do.

At first, I thought Spain was making me less productive

Growing up in Los Angeles, I was used to being able to get pretty much anything done at almost any time of day. Between 24-hour supermarkets and medical offices with evening and weekend hours, everything there seemed built around convenience.

In Barcelona, though, rest seems to take priority. Many stores close during midday for a "siesta" or "nap" break, and a lot of businesses are not open on Sundays.

This new way of life meant I had to plan a lot more before trying to complete my to-do list. I couldn't simply squeeze in errands when they were convenient for me; I had to work around the schedules of those around me.

While living in LA, my favorite time to do grocery shopping was on Sunday. I could fill up my fridge and prepare for the week ahead, but that was no longer possible in Barcelona, as many big supermarkets are closed on Sundays.

During my first year in Spain, I'd often wake up lazily on Sunday mornings and wander over to the supermarket, only to see the doors closed, and I'd be hit with a reality check time and time again.

I wasn't living in the United States anymore, but I couldn't seem to shake off the faster pace of living I was accustomed to back in LA. I was finding it difficult to adapt and was worried that I would become less productive because I couldn't get things done on my time.

Soon, I realized that if I couldn't change the schedule, I had to start adjusting to it. I started splitting errands throughout the week when I knew places would be open, instead of trying to get them done all at once.

Giving myself space between these tasks actually helped me to be less forgetful and more efficient. I had to focus on one thing at a time, which helped me be more present.

In time, I realized it was doing the opposite

Now that I've been in Spain for about six years, I've gotten used to my new routines. And, in time, I found myself feeling less annoyed by the limited hours — I've actually begun to enjoy them.

For one, I felt less pressure to optimize all of my free time.

My lunch breaks became about savoring my meal and actually taking a break, sometimes reading a few chapters in a book or taking a walk in the park. Sundays became about sleeping in, enjoying time with my family, taking a long walk with my dog, and preparing for the week ahead simply by just having a relaxing afternoon.

Even though it wasn't necessarily my choice to stop doing errands whenever I pleased, it forced me to slow down. I started feeling calmer and less stressed, and surprisingly, even more productive.

I became more mindful of how I spent my time and allowed myself moments to truly rest, which gave me more energy to get things done. I still get everything on my to-do list completed; it just might take a little longer.

And before I leave my apartment, I always make sure to check the store hours just in case.