I spent years building a 'stable' life and climbing the ladder at work. Then, I quit my job and moved to Hungary.

For most of my 20s, I wanted to climb the career ladder — and hoped that as soon as I reached the top, everything would become clear and I would live happily ever after.

My life felt like it was headed in the right direction.

I was on a steady, exciting career trajectory in the climate policy field.

I even bought my first flat in an up-and-coming area of Edinburgh.

Then, my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer in late 2022.

The next few years were spent grappling with his illness and, eventually, his death.

I quickly felt the whole ecosystem of my life fall apart.

I was struggling at work, and I didn’t know how to ask for help.

I tried my best to carry on as normal and try to convince myself that the work I was doing — and, by extension, myself — was important.

As I edged toward my 30th birthday in early 2025, against a backdrop of grief and burnout, the need for change felt urgent and existential.

It was shortly after this, in the spring, that I decided a move abroad was exactly what I needed.

I quit my job and spent the next few months sending applications to schools across Europe, hoping to pursue a master’s degree in my field and embark on a fresh start.

When an offer came from a university in Budapest, I knew that was where I would be going.

I had visited for the first time about a decade prior, and fallen in love.

I remember thinking, “I could see myself living here one day,” not thinking that that “one day” would ever actually come.

In September, I packed up my life, started renting out my Edinburgh flat, and made the move.

The first few months brought a mix of excitement, fear, and disbelief.

There was a lot of bureaucracy to navigate — forms to fill out, applications to be processed — and I couldn’t relax until everything was completed.

I was also pretty lonely in the beginning.

When I first moved, I didn’t know a single person in Budapest and had to build a completely new social circle from scratch.

I also sometimes felt like an imposter: I was a lot older than the fresh-faced students in their early 20s who made up the bulk of my classmates.

It felt like I was in a completely different life stage, and I was worried I didn’t fit in.

Once I got settled, many of my anxieties subsided.

I loved my new flat and enjoyed going back to school and learning new things.

Unfortunately, the hardest part — finding work — is ongoing.

I figured I’d be able to get a part-time office job while I completed my degree, but it’s been difficult.

I’ve had to rely on my savings much more than I expected.

This summer, I worked long hours at a temp job; I’ve also worked as a teaching assistant at my university and done some voiceover work.

However, none of this compares to what I used to earn as a full-time employee with a senior title.

And although the rent in Budapest is generally a lot lower than in Edinburgh, my general cost of living still feels pretty high, particularly when it comes to groceries and daily expenses.

This sense of financial precarity is difficult, and it’s definitely not sustainable long-term.

I’m lucky to have some income from my renter in Edinburgh and savings from my years working full-time — but there are still moments when I feel very acutely aware of the security I left behind.

Despite the erratic, unsteady, and low-paid nature of all these jobs — or maybe even because of it — my attitude toward work has changed.

For so many years, my job was all I talked and worried about.

I felt like what I did defined me as a person.

My jobs now might not be as “stable” or consistent, but I no longer view my career as my identity.

Instead, I think of my jobs as a series of experiences — some good, some bad — that have made my world bigger and my life richer (unfortunately, not literally).

My attitude toward spending has changed, too.

In the past, I would spend money on clothes, nights out, expensive nail salons, and vacations without really thinking.

Now I’m much more frugal and intentional about my money, which I think is a good thing.

Most of all, though, my move forced me out of a comfort zone that was becoming increasingly less comfortable.

Starting fresh somewhere new — and making my life here work, even amid the challenges — has shown me that I’m more resilient than I ever thought I could be.

I know now that no matter what gets thrown at me, I will deal with it somehow.

At times, I wonder how much easier my life would be if I had stayed where I was — and if I’m being honest, the answer is probably “a lot.” But I am so glad I didn’t choose the easy option.

I’m on track to graduate next June, and I am excited about what lies ahead.

I’m not sure yet whether I’ll explore opportunities elsewhere in Europe or perhaps move back to the UK — but I hope that no matter where I end up, I will return more confident and self-assured than when I left.