Living abroad can be a wonderful experience. Because it can bring growth, new opportunities, discoveries, and a life completely different from the one we knew. But it can also demand much more from our bodies and our minds than we realize.
For those who immigrate, especially when there are young children or family members who depend on us, a question can begin to quietly appear:
“And if something happens to me?”
And along with it come others:
Who is going to pick up my kids? And who is going to stay with them if I need to go to the hospital?
Will someone help me if I feel sick? And what if I can't work?
Or what if I need help and there's no one around?
These thoughts may seem exaggerated. But there is a reason why they can become so present.
Because when we leave our country, we often lose more than just the physical proximity of our family. We lose an important part of our safety net.
And our body also perceives this.
Human beings were not made to handle everything alone
Throughout our history as a species, survival has never depended exclusively on one person.
Because caring for children, feeding the family, protecting the most vulnerable, and facing dangerous situations has always been, in large part, a shared responsibility.
Grandparents, siblings, uncles and aunts, neighbors, as well as other community members, participated in daily life.
When a mother needed to rest, someone could help.
And when a child got sick, someone could stay with them.
Or else, when an adult fell ill, other people could temporarily take over some responsibilities.
This means that the feeling of human security is also related to the perception that we are not alone.
When we immigrate, this structure can change completely.
Suddenly, that person who lived ten minutes away is thousands of kilometers away.
The grandmother cannot simply show up to pick up the child.
Or the sister cannot show up to prepare a meal.
A childhood friend cannot accompany you to an appointment.
And you start to realize that, in many situations, it's you for yourself.
What happens when the brain realizes there is no network nearby?
Our organism has extremely sophisticated systems to identify threats and prepare us to deal with them.
When we perceive danger, the autonomic nervous system can increase the body's state of alertness. Hormones and neurotransmitters associated with the stress response help the body become more prepared to act.
It is the well-known answer of fight or flight.
The heart can race.
Respiration can change.
Muscles become better prepared.
Attention increases.
Brain starts looking for solutions and potential threats.
All of this is extremely useful when there is an immediate danger.
The problem arises when the feeling of threat is no longer occasional and becomes part of daily life.
For an immigrant mother, for example, perhaps there is no lion chasing the family.
But there can be a persistent feeling of:
“I cannot get sick” or “I need to be available”.
“I can't just stop” or “If something happens, I don't know who will take over”.
The body does not necessarily need to be facing immediate physical danger to experience stress. The perception of a lack of safety, excessive responsibilities, and an absence of resources to deal with a situation can also contribute to keeping the organism on high alert.
The invisible burden of those who “need to have it all together”
This is where something very common in the immigration experience comes in: hypervigilance.
You start thinking in advance about everything that can go wrong.
There's always a plan B.
And sometimes, a plan C.
Do you know where the nearest hospital is?
There is a list of phone numbers.
She thinks about who could pick up the kids.
She keeps her commitments even when she is tired.
Avoids missing work.
Postpones that appointment.
Ignores some of the body signals because “now isn't the time.”.
And, little by little, a dangerous belief can emerge:
“I don't have the right to get sick.”
Not because you really don't have that right.
But because, in your perception, getting sick seems to represent too big of a risk for the whole structure that depends on you.
When self-care becomes a matter of survival
There is a change in perspective that can be very important for those who live this reality.
Taking care of health shouldn't just be something we do when a problem arises.
After all, for those who have a great responsibility for other people, self-care can also be a form of prevention.
It doesn't mean living obsessed with illnesses.
It doesn't mean trying to control everything.
And much less does it mean believing that healthy habits can avoid any disease.
This means recognizing that there are aspects of our health over which we have some influence.
Good sleep.
Balanced diet.
Movement.
Stress management.
Relationships and social connection.
Rest time.
Medical follow-up when necessary.
Prevention and appropriate exams for each stage of life.
Self-body awareness.
These small choices do not offer a guarantee that we will never get sick.
But they can contribute to building a stronger health foundation.
And this can change the relationship we have with that fear.
It's not about eliminating fear. It's about increasing the feeling of safety.
Maybe the question doesn't need to be:
“How do I avoid getting sick?”
Because this is not completely under our control.
Perhaps a healthier question is:
“What can I do today to take better care of myself?”
This change seems small, but it can transform our relationship with health.
Instead of waiting for the body to present a problem and then taking action, we begin to develop a more preventative attitude.
Instead of ignoring tiredness, we learned to listen to it.
Instead of considering sleep a luxury, we understand its importance.
Instead of waiting for a crisis to seek help, we learned to build a support network.
Instead of believing we need to handle everything on our own, we start asking:
“Who can walk with me?”
The importance of rebuilding a support network
When we live abroad, one of the most important ways to take care of our health can be precisely to rebuild what we lost with immigration: connection.
The new network might not be the same as the one in your home country.
Maybe it is not made up of family members.
It can be a friend.
A neighbour.
Another school mom.
A community group.
A trusted professional.
Someone you recently met, but who might be available when you need them.
Building connections is not just an emotional matter.
Belonging and connection are also part of our health.
And perhaps one of the most important questions for those living abroad is:
“If I need help tomorrow, who can I call?”
If the answer is “no one,” perhaps this is an aspect of your health that deserves attention.
And perhaps that is why health education is so important
It was precisely with this feeling of helplessness in mind that many people experience when living far away from their support network that my work in health education has emerged.
I believe that knowledge can bring autonomy.
When we better understand how our bodies work, learn to recognize signs, develop healthier habits, and make conscious choices, we stop viewing health merely as something that needs to be treated when an illness appears.
We also begin to see it as something we can cultivate daily.
Not to control the future.
But to build more resources to face it.
Because maybe the truth is this:
You don't have to live in fear of getting sick.
But you can choose to take care of your health while you are healthy.
You can build a network.
Or you can ask for help.
You can get to know your body.
Or you can even create habits that support your health.
And you can remember that taking care of who you love also begins with taking care of the person who makes it all possible:
YOU
A reflection for today
If you live outside of your country, try answering these three questions:
1. If I needed help tomorrow, who would I call?
2. How have I been taking care of my health to avoid getting sick?
3. What could make my life a little safer and more sustainable today?
Perhaps the answers show that there is something you are already doing very well.
Or perhaps they show a space that needs to be cared for.
And this is also health education:
learn to notice before the body has to scream.