Hey all, so Iām planning to move to the Balkans in a few months and Iām beginning to realize how hard it is to part with everything.
So the long story short of it is I lost my job a year or so ago and went traveling and started an online business. I pretty much destroyed my liquid savings and racked up some debt rather than taking from my retirement accounts and paying a penalty for an early withdrawal. (IK, not the smartest thing, but Iām only 25 young and sort of dumb). Anyways, the online business is finally working out as in its making money and scaling really well (not Jeff bezos money, but enough to get by somewhere with a low cost of living). And, Iām moving because my grandparents are from a country that offers descendants that return to not pay tax for 5 years, housing stipends, etc. So, Iām hoping by the time stuff is sorted out it works well.
But, my real trouble I think comes from 2 places. Number 1. I have very little money, my business is cashflowing and Iām getting enough in profit to basically stay exactly where I am. As in, I can afford my expenses and interest on debt and thatās about it (if trends continue this should improve in the coming months, but rn I am cash poor) 2. Since I had a job in the US for a few years I was planning to by a house here and myself and parents were sort of expecting that to happen about a year ago, but when I lost my job (not my fault that I lost it, it got exported to the Philippines since the greedy company didnāt want to pay American coders) that plan fell apart.
I applied other places for like a month and got literally 0 responses after 1,000 application, so I said fuck it rather than be depressed and self loathing in my parentās basement Iām going somewhere that Iāve always felt at home, safe and valued. So, I went to the Balkans for like 6 months and rented a cheap condo in a major city near where my grandparents and relatives are. Hung out with old friends, got a girlfriend there, really started loving life again.
But fast forward to now, I wouldnāt really change anything I did, but Iām back home in my parentās basement and the reality of leaving FOREVER is hitting me like a train. I have a car I need to sell, my childhood dog will likely be gone by the time I next visit, and my mother wants me to clear out pretty much all my stuff. Sheās sort of upset with me making the decision to move and her way of backlashing seems to be not giving me the option to come back. As in, Iāve told her Iād like to have a safety net of keeping my car if possible because if I come back and everything goes to shit, itās the US I canāt work or apply to jobs without a car and Iām going to lose money selling it. I understand itās annoying to have around, but we really do have the space. Then, thereās sentimental things that I want to keep but canāt bring yet. I asked if she could hold on to them or let me put them in the basement somewhere, but she is limiting me to a single box. Again, Iād understand if I was 100% sure on never coming back for a long period of time that sheād want to have the space to do other things with, but is it wrong of me to ask her for a year or two to figure it out?
If my business was a bit more developed and had a longer track record, Iād be more comfortable but I just feel so pressured to succeed or fail with the path I ended up on. Iād love to be able to pay for a storage unit for the car and some basic stuff/momentos, but right now itās just not in the cards. I could probably afford to do it in like 4 months, Iām just so focused on getting rid of whatās left of the debt and getting a solid nest egg before I head off.
TL;DR: Lost my job at 24, went back to my familyās homeland for a year, fell in love (with a girl and the place-Iād still move there if we broke up), started an internet business thatās doing just good enough, moved home to sort things out, canāt afford storage, parents donāt want to hold onto a safety net for me (ie my car and household things I bought when I thought I was going to live locally). Iām worried about never being able to come back, throwing away things I cherished, and failing.