Before I begin, I want to preface this by saying I will forever love Australia and acknowledge it as the land that raised me. I mean no disrespect in what I’m about to share, and I know this isn’t everyone’s experience—this is just a personal story. My husband Andrew is Greek, born and raised in Melbourne, and I’m Iraqi, born in Iraq but raised in Melbourne since I was three. With that said, let’s dive in.
The Place
Australia has some stunning spots, but much of it isn’t easy to live in unless you’re in a major city. As soon as you drive a couple of hours out of town, infrastructure disappears, and you’re left with dry, barren landscapes. We’ve spent our lives in Melbourne, where the weather is famously unpredictable—“four seasons in one day.” A sunny morning can turn into a rainy, windy nightmare by lunchtime, making it hard to plan anything without a backup. It’s exhausting, and after years of it, we’ve had enough.
Spiritually, we’ve also felt an energy shift. We’re sensitive to the vibes around us, and lately, it feels like the land is pushing us away. It’s not ours; it belongs to its original custodians, and we feel that disconnect more each year. We no longer feel held like we used to, and it’s time to move on. Plus, the dry, cracked land doesn’t appeal to us. We crave more greenery, lush vegetation, and yes—bumblebees. Australia doesn’t have those adorable, chubby bees that buzz around Europe, and we miss them.
Another thing that I have mentioned in a previous post is just how far we are from the rest of the world. For people who like to travel, it makes it impossible to venture out because not only does it cost so much to fly almost everywhere… and even if you can afford it, it takes approx 24hrs to get to Europe which means every time you want to visit a new country you have to go for at least a month for it to be worth the trip.
The People
There’s a saying here, “tall poppy syndrome,” where it’s more common to be cut down than supported when trying to achieve something. It’s like people are waiting for you to fail to feel better about themselves. It’s frustrating, but more than that, there’s a real sense of social isolation. Friendships here are often formed in childhood and rarely expand. Australians are friendly, sure, but it often doesn’t go beyond that surface-level interaction. Everyone has their walls up, and deep conversations are rare unless you’ve known someone for years.
As "wogs" and "ethnics," we love sitting around, having deep conversations over a coffee and cigarette until the sun comes up. We’re lucky to have friends who share that vibe, but it’s just not common enough. Most people here are asleep by 9 PM to get up for work the next morning, and it’s hard to blame them—the economy makes it impossible to enjoy late nights. It’s all about the hustle and grind, with no real work-life balance unless you’re working for a big foreign company that gets it. Across most industries, you’re expected to be a slave for your wage, and that’s just the reality.
And don’t even get me started on the drinking culture. It’s not about enjoying a glass of wine by the beach at sunset; it’s about getting plastered, forgetting the night, and doing it all again. If you don’t drink, you’re left out, because that’s the only way most people feel comfortable enough to let their walls down. It’s like we’ve all been conditioned to hide behind our masks, only letting our guard down when we’re too tipsy to care. No one knows how to just be real anymore.
The Economy
The Australian economy is a nightmare. The cost of living is skyrocketing, and home ownership feels like an impossible dream for our generation. The worst part isn’t just the numbers but the mentality it creates. People openly admit they’re just waiting for an inheritance to pay off their mortgage. It’s heartbreaking and infuriating that the best financial plan many have is hoping someone they love dies. It’s a culture of survival rather than living, and we’re just not about that life.
The Government
Finally, there’s the government. The way Australia handled COVID—especially in Melbourne—was an eye-opener. We went through some of the harshest lockdowns in the world, and it felt like torture. The fear-mongering, forced vaccinations, and draconian measures pushed people to their limits. What hit me hardest wasn’t just the government’s actions but how many people supported them without question. Many of us, especially those of us from first- or second-generation migrant families, grew up hearing stories of war, dictatorships, and government overreach. To see people willingly give up their freedoms under the guise of “it’s for your own good” was alarming.
Melbourne experienced the longest lockdowns in the world coming in at 266 days.
For the first time, it felt like Australia wasn’t our place anymore. We’ve been incredibly fortunate to live here, but it’s no longer enough. We want more than just surviving—we want to live somewhere that aligns with who we are now, not who we used to be. It’s time to find a new home, one that feels like ours, where we can build a life that truly fits.
Remember, I’m not here to bash Australia. For over 25 years, it’s been good to us—our home, our roots, and the place that shaped who we are. But sometimes, the life you’ve known starts to feel too small, and the only way to grow is to step into the unknown. We’re grateful for everything Australia has given us, but now it’s time for expansion. If we want a different life, and time for this Australian couple to move to Spain.
Adios!
Jasmine & Andrew
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