Challenges you will face if you stay in Belgium

“There is not a lack of friends, but a lack of close friends.” Reid Whitten, international trade lawyer

Probably the biggest challenge we all face when we are building our lives in Brussels is that we came for a job in Brussels, but not necessarily for a life in Brussels. We are expats, but at the same time we are different. Where expats typically are sent by their company or government to a country for a fixed period (often around four years), we chose ourselves to move and start a life abroad.

Psychologists call us “self-initiated expats” who stay on in Brussels for a much longer period than we had initially planned. We are different than expats, but at the same time we have to deal with the same issues, often stretched over a much longer period.

The constant feeling of “temporariness”

In his PhD study “The ambivalent European: expatriates in Brussels,” Johan Fredborn Larsson examines how the average Brussels expatriate organises their life in Brussels. His research reveals that many do not seem to accept that their life here is permanent or wish to invest in the city, genuine friendships, or even some nice furniture (he describes how everyone has the same Ikea cabinet).

Larsson refers to the state in which expatriates live as “temporariness”: “Many expatriates say that they came to Brussels for a temporary sojourn. They came with a one-way ticket with two suitcases, especially those arriving in their twenties. They bought some cheap furniture since they intended to stay for merely a few months. However, they stayed, sometimes for years, but often prolonged it by one year at a time, and therefore never cared about investing properly in furniture, as well as many other things. This suggests that some expatriates live in a certain kind of temporariness, despite the fact that some have stayed in Brussels for many years.”

This feeling of “temporariness” also impacts the way friendships and relationships are approached: “I get the feeling that the same kind of cautiousness about investing time, money, and energy can be seen in the relation to personal relationships. People do not know whether the relationships will last, and hence they do not put their soul into it.”

He concludes that in Brussels, there’s a tendency to fall into a comfort zone when it comes to work, lifestyle, and social as-pects. You might find yourself in a job that’s moderately inter-esting, though not overly exciting, but pays well. This stability enables you to afford a nice apartment, have a partner, and start a family. Given this sense of security, there’s less motivation to strive for something different: “Thus, the expatriates live in a temporariness. Knowing that you might soon leave, makes you invest less, and hence it is difficult to create a ‘home’, both physically and emotionally, 

although this temporariness may be pro-longed for years.”

In his study, Larsson mainly interviews younger individuals. Most of the conversations I’ve had were with people who are a bit older. Most had accepted that Brussels was their new home, which presented a more positive image. However, what stands out is that few people make real efforts to integrate, and work plays a very determining role in their lives in Brussels. For many, Brussels is truly a city for work and nothing more. The consequence in that case is that you mainly derive your happi-ness from the work environment. The danger is that if the job provides less satisfaction, you start to wonder what you’re still doing in Brussels. I have been there a couple of times myself. In hindsight, I should have revived my old hobbies much earlier to build connections with people outside of work and to better integrate into the country.

The pressure of a highly competitive work environment

While there are few who truly love the city, people’s motivation to succeed in Brussels is unequalled. Often equipped with two Masters degrees, a PhD, and at least three languages in their baggage, people from all over Europe come to carve out a place in the Brussels job market. Many go to great lengths and are willing to work for peanuts in the first few years.

I must confess that my first few years were undeniably intimidating. Especially during my 

internship at the European Com-mission, the CVs of my fellow interns were spectacular, and I occasionally wondered how on earth I had managed to get in. My results at university were not bad, but certainly not exceptional. Unlike many other interns, I didn’t have a PhD, or a Masters degree from the 

London School of Economics or the College of Europe in Bruges, or diplomats/politicians for parents.

I sometimes wondered if I had the right mindset to succeed in Brussels. While I enjoyed the intern parties, the idea of tack-ling such a difficult competition as the concours was less appealing. I heard stories of people quitting their jobs to study to pass the exams. I couldn’t imagine having the motivation or financial means to do something like that.

In the end, it all worked out. Over the years, I have also seen that having a good Curriculum Vitae is very nice, but it ultimately comes down to whether you deliver day in and day out at work. I also noticed that the interns with the most impressive CVs didn’t always deliver the best work.

Often, you don’t need a thorough analysis of a problem, but rather someone who rolls up their sleeves and solves it. When Obama was asked for his most important advice for professionals, he said: “Develop a ‘just do it’ mentality.” In Dutch, we say: “niet lullen, maar poetsen” (don’t talk, but work).

Language makes or breaks

It’s incredibly easy to meet new people in Brussels. We’re all in the same boat, having left our homes to come to Brussels in search of a good job. And while relationships don’t always go deep, people are generally open to meeting new people.

But to truly feel at home in Brussels and Belgium, it’s important to establish real connections. In the study “Seeking recognition of expatriate complexity” by a collective of psychologists, the language barrier is identified as one of the main factors in determining whether someone will succeed in building a new life in Brussels.

One of the interviewees mentioned feeling no connection with the city or its people because she didn’t speak French: “I have lived here for 7 years but I still don’t feel very familiar with the city. There are language barriers. So all the information about what is happening around the city, movies, festivals ... it doesn’t reach me like in my country.”

It’s often said that the best way to learn a new language is through romance. I experienced this firsthand when I fell in love with a wonderful Belgian woman and spent nine fantastic years with her. Not only did my French improve significantly, but I also embraced the Belgian way of life through her.

As you’ll read in the next chapter, I’ve become a fan of the Belgians and even moved to Walloon Brabant. I highly recommend getting to know our host country better. It makes life here much more fulfilling.

There is alcohol (and drugs) everywhere

You can always get a drink (often for free) somewhere every evening. When I first started at the European Parliament, I eagerly took advantage of this. My colleagues and I made it a sport to attend as many exhibitions and gatherings as possible in one evening, often ending up late at Place Luxembourg for drinks. From what I understand from the younger generation, it’s quite common to give the evening an extra boost with a pill or a sniff. When you’re new to Brussels, it’s incredibly fun, but I noticed older colleagues at these drinks too. Eventually, I realised they had serious alcohol problems and were trapped in a cycle of loneliness and drinking. Over the years, I’ve seen this pattern often. Alcoholism is a lurking danger, and conversations with a psychologist confirmed that alcohol addiction is indeed a major concern for many in the Bubble.

The constant goodbyes

One of the most difficult things to get used to is that people are constantly coming and going. Just when you finally make a good friend, they decide to leave to embark on new adventures in another country. Frequent farewells can wear you down, and you may become less inclined to invest in new relationships.

I found this challenging in the first few years as well. It feels like starting over every time, and you begin to wonder if it’s worth spending time with people who might leave in a few months. Additionally, the casual nature of relationships gave me a restless feeling. What was it all worth, who were real friends, and was it even possible to build genuine friendships? What worked for me was incorporating some elements that were enduring. I joined a tennis club and have been playing football on Tuesday evenings with a fixed group for over twenty years. In the early years, the casualness of Brussels was liberat-ing, but the longer I was in Brussels, the more I came to appreciate more stable structures and relationships.

And talking about structure, it of course helped to get married and become the father of four kids. Nowadays, I sometimes long for chaos and throw all the structure out of the window. But it is a great feeling that the family we are investing in will last for a lifetime.

The feeling that you are losing your identity

During the early years of living in Brussels, my old university friends would visit every few months for wild weekends. We often started on Fridays at a Russian restaurant, where we devoured large hams, listened to live folk music, and knocked back far too many vodkas.

Then we would head to Havana to dance until late to “La vida es un carnaval” by Celia Cruz while sipping on our mojitos. The next day, we’d sleep in, take a stroll around the city, and have dinner at another restaurant. The rest of the night would follow the same programme as the previous night. On Sundays, the guys would pack their little rucksacks into their company cars and drive back to the Netherlands.

During the first few years, this kept me closely connected with my university friends, but eventually, they got girlfriends, got married, and had children. The bi-monthly weekends turned into an annual event. Still very enjoyable, but naturally not enough to maintain the close bond we had always had. By then, I had made new friends in Brussels, but many of them returned to their home countries after a couple of years.

This led to a situation where after about two or three years in Brussels, I felt like I hadn’t really achieved much. I had a decent job as an assistant to a Euro-parliamentarian, but after campaigning intensively for the European elections and then losing gloriously, I found myself in a bit of a black hole. Brussels felt empty, unreal, and I no longer had the same energy for my work that I had always had in previous years.

I now understand better that I went through a kind of identity crisis. A period that almost everyone encounters when staying in a new country. You feel displaced from your own country, but your new country also doesn’t feel like home. The fact that my French was so abysmal didn’t help either. My initial enthusiasm for Brussels was gone, and because people around me kept coming and going, I felt like I had to start over each time. I also began to wonder if I had the stamina to really make some-thing of myself in Brussels. Was I truly willing to invest in learning French, in passing that competition, and making Brussels my new long-term home?

At the time, I didn’t seek real answers to these questions or test myself. I chose the easiest route and accepted a new job as a spokesperson at PricewaterhouseCoopers in Amsterdam. My interview was directly with the CEO, and I was hugely flattered that they wanted me, but at the same time, I also felt like it was an escape. Even my girlfriend who lived in Amsterdam thought it was a bad idea that I joined her. And she was right, I didn’t dare to challenge myself deeper to truly make something of my life in Brussels.

Once I was in Amsterdam, it quickly became clear that this escape solved nothing. Initially, I enjoyed the familiarity of everything. Having beers with my old university pals and doing everything in my native language. On top of it, in Amsterdam there was much less emphasis on work and having a good CV. I shared an apartment with my brother in the best part of the city and life was good. At the same time, after three months a feeling was creeping in that I had made a mistake. I started to miss Brussels and came to realise that I felt less at home in Amsterdam than I had done in Brussels. When my girlfriend had enough of my complaining and broke up with me, I fell into a bit of a depression. Fortunately, I later got the chance to return to Brussels.

Feeling in limbo is normal for expatriates. The same group of psychologists I mentioned before concluded that many do not feel connected either to the host country, or to the home country. This feeling of not belonging was expressed by one of the interviewees as follows: “Honestly, I don’t know where home is any-more.” It’s a phase everyone goes through.

The “Expat Blues”

It is not always easy to make Brussels your new home. Little research has been done into the happiness of people who voluntarily emigrate abroad to build a new life. And unfortunately, there is no study to be found that focuses exclusively on Brussels.

However, studies among American expats do indicate that depression and anxiety are an epidemic among those living and working in a foreign country. A frequently cited study found that 50% of expats were at high risk of developing anxiety and depression. Psychologists call it the “Expat Blues”.

The grey Brussels sky and reduced social contacts due to a heavy emphasis on teleworking also don’t help. The “Expat Blues” is often called an “Expat Depression” because it has the same symptoms: losing interest or not finding much pleasure in things and activities you used to enjoy, fatigue or a feeling of a general lack of energy, feelings of worthlessness and guilt, feelings of extreme isolation and loneliness, problems with your sleeping patterns and experiencing much higher levels of anxiety and stress than normal.

As an expat, it’s harder to get out of this negative spiral. You’ve left your support system of family and friends at home and have to fend for yourself. This can lead to an overwhelming feeling of loneliness.

The psychologists who work with Brussels expats emphasise the importance of not putting too much pressure on yourself. Many people in Brussels are overachievers and want to succeed at all costs. If you’ve sacrificed a lot to finally establish yourself in Brussels and you’re not really enjoying it, it can be very stressful.

Get into some routines of doing things that make you happy. Exercise, practice mindfulness, get enough sleep, make sure you eat healthy, but realise that there will be days when you feel down. Just accept it and give yourself a break. It does get better. And one important piece of advice that came up in all the reading I have done about this topic: stop comparing yourself to others! In Brussels, we tend to focus on status and career and constantly compare ourselves with those we think are doing bet-ter. US President Teddy Roosevelt called social comparison the “thief of joy”. He was absolutely right; it makes you feel miserable.

So, when comparing yourself to others, look at those who are worse off. You’ll realise that you haven’t done so badly after all. Stop being so hard on yourself. It’s okay not to be perfect all the time. Appreciate yourself as you would a good friend.