What women who have emigrated don’t say out loud

There is no longer just one version of you.

You are no longer simply “a Polish woman from Poland.” But you do not yet feel fully “from here.”

Every day you live a little here and a little there — balancing constantly between languages, values, expectations, cultures, ways of living, and physical distances. Between “how it is done here” and “how I was brought up.” You explain yourself not only to others but sometimes to yourself.

And this is not something that shows on the surface. But it changes everything.

In the photos — everything looks fine. Inside — constant effort.

In the holiday photos, the birthday photos, the Sunday walk in the forest — you look like someone who “made it.” Someone who has figured it all out, understands everything, has it all under control.

Sometimes it is not even about specific situations. It is about that constant effort — to understand, not to make the wrong move, to fit in.

“I am never completely myself anywhere.”

You no longer quite fit Polish conversations — because you have started to think differently. But you feel like an outsider here too — because you always do something “the other way.” From the outside everything looks fine. But inside it is something else entirely.

People say: “You’ve got it together, you’re so strong.” But they don’t see that you do everything alone.

That when you are ill, there is no mother or sister who will show up with soup or take the children. That you are afraid to go to a government office because you do not fully understand the letter that arrived. That when you need to find a paediatrician, a therapist, or sort out insurance, you search at night, in three languages at once, through online forums.

You do not have a neighbour to watch a parcel. You do not have a school friend who will say “go to sleep, I’ll figure something out.”

This is work that no one sees. To everyone else it seems like nothing much. But it costs something. Quite a lot, actually.

When you live abroad, you do not have what in Poland is taken for granted. You have yourself. And a list of things to do.

This is not a “normal everyday life.” It is heroic — even if no one gives you credit for it.

And yet — you manage.

Every day you do something extraordinary:

• you raise children between two languages,
• you fight for yourself in a system you do not fully know,
• you translate the world to your family and translate your family to the world,
• you look for work without knowing how things work locally,
• you build a life from scratch — with a determination that no one sees.

Not because you are “tough.” But because you are intelligent, attentive, and strong — even when you sometimes cry under the duvet.

It is time to recognise yourself.

Do not wait for someone else to say “well done.” Look at yourself with kindness and say: “This is genuinely a lot. And I am proud of myself.”

A few things that can help:

• Find at least one person you can speak honestly with.
• Do not be afraid to ask — even for the third time.
• Instead of trying to be perfect — try to be good to yourself.
• Instead of correcting yourself — try to understand yourself.

And remember: living between worlds is not a weakness. It is experience. Sensitivity. And enormous courage.

You are not “not Belgian enough” or “no longer Polish enough.” You do not have to fit perfectly into either world.

You have the right to be yourself — as you are today.
You have the right to be tired.
You have the right not to know.
You have the right to be afraid.
You have the right to be proud of yourself — even on the days when everything is falling apart.

Tell yourself: “I am a woman who is building a life between two worlds. And I am doing it as well as I can. And that — is genuinely a lot.”

Kasia Biernacka is an Organisational Psychologist and Leadership Advisor with over 20 years of international experience. She works with high-achieving professional women on energy, leadership, and life transitions. Based in Belgium. intuipro.eu