internationallovestory

You'll never guess the price. Sometimes missing home and living abroad comes with a price tag 🥲

We bought 2 bags of Pumpernickel (German bread), remoulade and a jar of Nutella here in Buenos Aires.

Guess how much we paid 👇🏼?
Also: what are you craving especially?

…and this is why our electricity bill doubled.

Summer in Argentina. Again. Weeks of heat, no rain — two out of three ACs running. And listen, every summer this is the same war.

Me vs. Nacho.
German vs. Argentinian.
Lüften vs. AC.

So when the bill arrived and it was double, I really thought: this is it. I won. Case closed.

His reaction: we should change the electric kettle to a gas one.

I’m not exaggerating. Not the ACs. The kettle. I stared at him like… are you serious right now?

Apparently yes. Very serious. Very convinced.

So here we are. The bill is double. The ACs are still on.

And I already know we’ll have the exact same argument next summer. Intercultural relationships in real life.

💬 Tell me — team AC or team Lüften and suffering?

I chose a life that asked more of me than I ever imagined.

A few weeks after we got married, I packed up everything I knew and moved to Miami.
New country.
New system.
New life — overnight.
The first 6 months?
Brutal.

No job. No friends. No idea who I was anymore.
Just silence, self-doubt, and homesickness that hit deeper than I thought possible.

People think you gave something up. But what they don’t see…
Is that you rebuilt — from scratch.
Without comfort. Without certainty.
With a kind of strength most people never need to find.

What hurts isn’t what they say.
It’s what they assume.

💬 Comment “ABROAD” if you’ve ever felt invisible in how hard it was. I’ll DM you my free guide on navigating difficult conversations — without guilt or self-abandonment.

📌 Save this for the days you forget how strong you are.

🤍 Share it with a woman who moved for love and was never warned what it would cost.