Safety Abroad: What I Believed vs. What I Learned Raising Kids Overseas

True safety isn’t where you are—it’s how you live.

What if the comfort of “home” is the very thing holding you back from something better?

I used to think I knew what safety meant.

As a Black woman born in the Bronx, NY and raised in a suburb of New Jersey, safety looked like sticking with what I knew. A familiar city. A steady paycheck. A life I could plan, even if it meant stress, burnout, and putting my dreams on hold.

It wasn’t until I left the U.S. that I realized how much I had confused familiarity with security.

Our first international move was in 2016. I had just started a family with my British husband, Duane, and we were presented with an opportunity to relocate from the U.K. to Copenhagen when our daughter Mia was just 8 months old. It came with a relocation package, so the logistics were easier, but emotionally, it felt like a leap off a cliff.

Was it going to be safe? Could we build a life somewhere that we never visited?

The answer, it turns out, was yes. In fact—it was safer than I imagined.

Copenhagen 2016-2020

Denmark Showed Me a Different Kind of Safety

In the U.S., I always felt on guard. From navigating the healthcare system to the daily hustle of working, everything felt like a race against time and rising costs.

But Denmark? It slowed me down in the best way.

✅ We received quarterly childcare payments that offset nursery costs.
✅ Healthcare was universal—no surprise bills, no panic about deductibles.
✅ The girls had access to clean parks, safe walking paths, and schools that encouraged independence.
✅ There was community. Trust. Space to breathe.

That version of safety didn’t come from what I knew—it came from what I was willing to consider.

Doha 2024-2025

Qatar Taught Me Something New, Too

By 2024, we found ourselves facing another major transition—this time to Doha, Qatar.

And let me be honest: we weren’t ready.

Not emotionally. Not logistically. Not even mentally.

But the opportunity was in front of us, and after weighing all the factors, we chose what felt like the best decision for our family’s future—even if it meant stepping into the unknown with more questions than answers.

This time, Mia was 7 and Elise was 6—old enough to have opinions, ask tough questions, and participate in real conversations. So we did something we hadn’t done before: we invited them into the decision-making process. We talked about what they might miss, what they were excited about, and what it meant to start over somewhere new.

One of our biggest concerns?
Education. Would the schools in Qatar measure up to the British education system we’d grown to trust?

We researched everything—from school rankings to parent forums—and toured several campuses. Eventually, we found an international school that exceeded our expectations. It didn’t just meet the academic standards we were used to—it nurtured a global perspective and celebrated cultural fluency.

But it wasn’t just about the kids’ education.
We had to educate ourselves, too.

Moving to a country shaped by traditional Muslim culture raised real questions—especially for me as a Black American woman. What would everyday life look like for me? Would I feel restricted? Would I be respected? Would I feel safe?

And here’s what we found:

✅ No income tax.
✅ Affordable household help, which gave us precious family time back.
✅ An incredible international school that nurtures both education and global awareness.
✅ A deeply family-oriented culture that made us feel welcomed, even as outsiders.

And guess what? My daughters are thriving.

They’re not learning a whole new language, but are exposed to Arabic daily. They speak English at home and school but also grow up surrounded by cultural and linguistic diversity.

That’s not a limitation—that’s a gift.

And for me?
What I initially viewed as a cultural challenge became a personal growth opportunity. I’ve found respect, connection, and—perhaps most surprisingly—a new version of ease I didn’t know was possible.

The Real Risk Was Staying Still

A lot of families considering a move abroad tell me the same thing:

"It’s not that I don’t want to go... I’m just not sure it’s safe."

Here’s what I want to say:

Familiar isn’t always safer.

Staying in a system that depletes you, that burns you out, that leaves no time for joy or rest? That’s not safety—that’s survival.

I had to learn that true safety is more than a home address or a healthcare provider who speaks your language. It’s about the quality of your day-to-day life.

Safety is being able to walk outside without fear.
Safety is knowing your medical needs won’t bankrupt you.
Safety is being part of a community that values your children, your time, and your well-being.

For the Family Reading This...

You might be sitting at your kitchen table right now, flipping between Instagram tabs of Bali sunsets and trying to justify why you're even thinking about this.

I know what that feels like.

It’s not just about safety. It’s about permission.
Permission to want more ease.
Permission to want more for your kids.
Permission to imagine something different, even if no one else in your family has done it before.

That doesn’t make you reckless. That makes you ready.

Ready to Explore Life Beyond the Safety Myth?

If this resonated with you, I created something to help:
Beyond Borders is a 3-week email experience where we break down the emotional, mental, and practical barriers that keep families from living abroad.

I guide you through:

✅ Breaking mental barriers like guilt and fear
✅ Reframing your idea of safety and stability
✅ Understanding how children thrive in global environments
✅ Taking your first real step toward moving

All from someone who’s done it—with two little girls, across three countries, without a perfect plan.

Because safety shouldn’t cost you your peace.

With you on this journey,
Sonaya