Экспат-экзodus: как летний затишок помогает международным семьям восстановить психологическое равновесие

The author: Sidsel Byskov Hansen has more than 20 years of experience advising expatriate families in Denmark and abraod. She currently works as a wellbeing consultant for over 20 international schools and is a speaker for The International School Counselling Association (ISCA), the professional network representing more than 13,000 international schools worldwide. Overnight, WhatsApp groups fall silent, neighbourhood cafés become noticeably quieter, and cities like Copenhagen suddenly feel different. The so-called Expat Exodus. For many expatriates and migrants, the summer can be a gap of mixed emotions. But it can also become an unexpected opportunity to slow down, reconnect with yourself, and recharge. In my work as an international counsellor and founder of Expat Counselling, I’ve noticed that the people who struggle most during the summer are not necessarily newcomers. Often, they are long-term expatriates who have spent years building meaningful friendships, only to find themselves repeatedly saying goodbye as people relocate. International life offers extraordinary opportunities, but it also asks us to rebuild our communities again and again. Psychology helps explain why this feels so significant. Research consistently shows that our need to belong is a fundamental human need, not simply a social preference. We regulate stress through relationships. Friends, colleagues and familiar routines become part of our emotional support system. When those connections suddenly disappear for weeks or permanently our nervous system notices. This is why many expats clients tell me, “I’m surrounded by people, but I still feel lonely.” Loneliness is not simply about being alone. Research by social neuroscientist John Cacioppo demonstrated that loneliness changes how the brain functions, increasing our sensitivity to uncertainty and social threat. For people living abroad, where daily life already requires constant cultural adaptation, the temporary disappearance of familiar faces can make the host country feel unexpectedly foreign again. Ulysses Syndrome – Migration stress Migration psychiatrist Joseba Achotegui described this accumulation of separation, loss and adaptation as Ulysses Syndrome, the chronic stress many migrants experience while navigating life between cultures. While not everyone develops the syndrome, most long-term expatriates recognise parts of it: repeated goodbyes, distance from family, and the emotional work of constantly rebuilding belonging. Summer often magnifies these feelings. Families may suddenly lose their childcare networks as international schools close and friends travel home. Professionals can find themselves spending weekends alone as their usual social circles disappear until September. Even those who choose to stay in Copenhagen rather than travel can experience a subtle fear of missing out as social media fills with images of family reunions and holidays elsewhere. Migrants who have nowhere to go because of social status also experience the summer as something that can be long and longing to go back to routines. Yet there is another way to look at this quieter season. In a world where we are constantly connected to work, notifications and endless social commitments the Expat Exodus offers something increasingly rare: permission to unplug. Many of us physically leave work but never mentally disconnect. Some check emails “just for a minute,” respond to messages while sitting in the park, or spend holidays anticipating what awaits when we return. Research on recovery consistently shows that psychological detachment from work, not simply physical absence is one of the strongest predictors of wellbeing. The same principle applies to our social lives. Solitude is not the same as loneliness. Loneliness feels imposed. Solitude is chosen. When approached intentionally, quieter weeks can become an opportunity to rest a nervous system that has spent months adapting, translating and responding to the demands of international life. Instead of filling every empty space, consider allowing some of it to remain. Visit parts of the city you’ve never explored. Read the book you’ve postponed all year. Spend time in nature. Invite one person for coffee rather than trying to organise a large gathering. Research consistently shows that one emotionally safe relationship contributes more to wellbeing than dozens of superficial interactions. Perhaps the Expat Exodus is not simply about who has left. Perhaps it is also about creating space to reconnect with ourselves, with the place we now call home, and with the relationships that matter most. Sometimes the quietest season is exactly what our nervous system has been waiting for.