One Year Later: What Actually Happened When Nicole Moved to Switzerland

Introduction

A year ago, Nicole stepped off the plane in Zurich with two suitcases, a racing heart, and dreams of building a life together in Switzerland. She left behind her apartment, her cats, her independence, and everything familiar in Costa Rica to start fresh with me in the Swiss mountains.

We’re not writing this to show you the perfect Instagram version of expat life. We’re writing this because we wish someone had told us the truth before Nicole moved. This is what actually happens when you leave everything behind for love—the good, the devastating, and everything in between.

If you’re considering a similar move, planning to join your partner abroad, or already struggling through your first year, this is for you.

The Four Phases of Year One: A Timeline Nobody Warns You About

Months 1 to 3: The Honeymoon (And the Lie We Told Ourselves)

The first three months felt like a dream. After years of long distance, we were finally living together. Nicole was mesmerized by Switzerland. The cozy mountain houses that looked straight out of a movie, the Christmas markets, the European charm she’d only seen on screens.

“When I put my first step here, I was like, holy sh*t, is it really like in the movies,” Nicole remembers.

Everything felt possible. She’d find a job soon. The language would come naturally. Swiss life would be amazing.

We were wrong about all of it.

Months 4 to 6: The Crash (When Reality Hit Like a Freight Train)

January and February hit Nicole like a ton of bricks. What she now calls her “hardest months.” The excitement wore off, and reality set in with brutal force.

“After three months, then it’s like a roller coaster of emotions,” Nicole explains. “You end up in depression. You end up going crazy because you are in a new place but you don’t have money because you don’t have work.”

The independence she’d built in Costa Rica disappeared overnight. Her own apartment, her own income, her ability to treat me to coffee or a movie. All gone. Her bank account drained as applications went unanswered, day after day, month after month.

For someone who’d always been fiercely independent, watching her savings disappear while depending entirely on me was crushing. Her self confidence, the very core of who she was, started crumbling.

This is the phase nobody talks about on social media. The “my perfect life abroad” Instagram posts? Bullsh*t. This was the real deal, and it was dark.

Months 7 to 9: The Adjustment (Small Wins, Big Exhaustion)

March brought a turning point. Nicole’s birthday arrived during one of her lowest moments, so we planned an escape. A trip to Turkey. For Nicole, who had to leave her beloved cats behind in Costa Rica (a heartbreaking decision we still think about), Istanbul’s thousands of street cats became an unexpected source of healing.

“That was my moment of peace or joy,” she says. “When I was in Turkey and I saw so many cats and I could be there caressing them wherever I went… I think that’s when I realized, okay, I know I can achieve this. I know I can overcome this situation.”

That trip didn’t solve everything, but it gave Nicole enough breathing room to keep going. The daily job applications continued. The cultural adjustments kept challenging us. But something had shifted.

Months 10 to 12: The Acceptance (It’s Different, Not Better or Worse)

After almost a full year, Nicole finally found a full time work (but nothing permanent and only an internship). Actually, two jobs. That was monumental. Not just for the income, but for what it represented: rebuilding her identity and independence in this new country.

“Now I feel more secure of who I am here,” Nicole reflects. “Because leaving everything behind and building up a new person… you also change a little bit. But I really don’t want to lose my Costa Rican way of thinking.”

Her self confidence started returning. The apartment began feeling like “ours” instead of just “mine.” Switzerland stopped feeling quite so foreign.

But here’s the kicker: Nicole doesn’t think Switzerland is “better” than Costa Rica. It’s just different. And after a year, she’s learning to hold both identities. Swiss resident and Costa Rican at heart. At the same time.

The 6 Biggest Challenges (That Almost Broke Us)

1. The Job Hunt From Hell

Every single day, Nicole sent applications. Every single day, nothing. The Swiss job market, with its preference for locals and language requirements, felt impossible to crack. Watching her savings drain while rejection emails piled up was depressing for both of us.

How we’re dealing with it now: Persistence, networking, and ultimately accepting any opportunity to get a foot in the door. Nicole now has two jobs. It took nearly a year, but she made it happen.

2. The Death of Independence

In Costa Rica, Nicole had her own apartment, her own projects, her own money. In Switzerland, she started from absolute zero. For an independent woman, depending entirely on me financially was soul crushing.

How we’re dealing with it now: With her jobs for the moment, Nicole’s rebuilding that independence. It’s not just about money. It’s about self worth. Of course we are still worried about the future of her career her, because the same situation is about to face us again.

3. The Language Barrier (Actually Two Languages)

“The second challenge has been the language barrier,” Nicole admits. “It’s not just German. It’s German AND Swiss German. Two languages.”

After a year, Nicole still feels like a baby when speaking German, sometimes only managing to say one word and hoping people understand. But there are small victories. Like when she asked if a train seat was reserved using just the word “Reserviert?” and the person understood.

“When I speak German, I feel like a baby. I only say one word and that’s it. But I’m getting there,” she laughs.

The language barrier isn’t just about communication. It’s about feeling competent, about being yourself, about not being reduced to simple words when you have complex thoughts.

How we’re dealing with it now: Nicole’s learning slowly but steadily. She understands more each month. And we’re both learning that perfect German isn’t required to make a life here.

4. The Swiss Mindset (Quiet Workplaces and Missing the Mess)

“The Swiss mindset is very different,” Nicole explains. “They’re always so structured, so serious. Especially at work.”

In Costa Rica, workplaces are lively. There’s noise, jokes, laughter. That “mess” creates a fun atmosphere where you enjoy working together. In Switzerland? Quiet. Everyone at their desk, doing what they need to do, minimal small talk.

“For me, it’s sometimes boring,” Nicole admits. “I really miss that energy, you know?”

It’s especially worse during the holidays. Nicole’s second Christmas in Switzerland drove this home. In Latin America, Christmas means parties, noise, energy in the streets. In Switzerland? Quiet streets, polite dinners, structured celebrations.

“You go out in the streets, it’s so quiet. People are just eating, talking about work or their next vacation. I miss that Latin America feeling of just going crazy.”

How we’re dealing with it now: Nicole’s learning when to adapt and when to hold onto her Latin identity. “You don’t have to lose your Latin flavor just because you’re in another country,” she says firmly. “You have to adjust, obviously. Respect the rules. But you don’t have to change who you are.”

5. Living Together For Real (Would We Actually Be Compatible?)

Before Nicole moved, this was our biggest unknown. We’d been long distance for years. Sure, we’d spent a month together here and there, but that’s tourist mode. Always on your best behavior. Always making every moment count.

Living together every single day? That’s different.

“I was a little bit scared,” Nicole confesses. “We hadn’t lived together for such a long period. I thought, are we really going to be able to handle this? What if we’re not compatible?”

The answer? It was difficult at first. We both had to change a little bit. Learn how the other thinks. Navigate the daily reality of sharing space, making decisions, dealing with each other’s bad moods.

But it worked. Better than worked, actually.

How we’re dealing with it now: “Now it’s so much easier,” Nicole says. “We always see both points of view when we need to decide important stuff. We’re learning every day. It’s always 50/50. And you can’t say ‘I’m the one who takes all the decisions.’ It has to be together.”

6. The Swiss Trains Aren’t Actually Perfect (Surprise!)

“People always say trains here are always on time… but for me now, that I’m living here, it’s not that true,” Nicole laughs. “I go swimming three days a week and it’s always a mess with the train schedule. They cancel trains way more often now.”

Even Switzerland’s famous reliability turned out to be… human. Sometimes trains are late. Sometimes people aren’t friendly. The perfection was an illusion.

How we’re dealing with it now: Lowering expectations and laughing about it. Switzerland is great, but it’s not paradise. It’s very clean compared to San José, the mountains are beautiful, but the trains? Yeah, they’re just trains.

The Unexpected Positives: What We Didn’t See Coming

The Architecture Felt Like a Movie

Nicole genuinely loves the cozy mountain architecture, the old world European charm, the feeling of living in a storybook. “You really feel that you’re in this… style that you only see in the movies,” she says with wonder still in her voice.

Quality Time Became Real Time

After years of long distance (scheduled video calls, precious visit days, always being on our best behavior) we finally got to experience real, everyday life together. Morning coffee rituals. Grocery shopping. Lazy Sundays. The mundane became magical.

Switzerland’s Nature Actually Lives Up to the Hype

Even after a year, the mountains, lakes, and hiking trails still take our breath away. For Nicole, exploring Switzerland on weekends became a way to accept her new “temporary home.

We Grew Closer Through the Struggle

The hardest year of our relationship also became the most defining. We learned how to support each other when life got ugly. We discovered that love isn’t just the butterflies. It’s also the boring, hard, “let’s figure this out together” moments.

Where We Are Now: The Honest Answer

We’re not going to sugarcoat it: Nicole still misses Costa Rica. She misses her cats. She misses the warmth (both the weather and the people). She misses the ease of her former independence. She misses the noise, the energy, the “mess” of Latin American life.

But she’s also building something here. Her self confidence is coming back. She has work. Well, contract work, not permanent yet, but it’s something. She has a routine. She’s learning German (slowly, one word at a time). She’s finding her place.

“I have to confess… you end up in depression,” Nicole says bluntly. “But now I feel like my identity is coming back. Now I feel more secure of who I am here.”

Our relationship? Stronger than ever, but in a completely different way than when we were long distance. We’re not performing for each other anymore. We’re actually living together, with all the mundane, exhausting, beautiful reality that entails.

Nicole’s perspective on Switzerland has evolved. She doesn’t romanticize it anymore, but she also doesn’t hate it. It’s home now. A strange, structured, occasionally cold, but ultimately livable home.

What We’re Hoping For Next Year

When we talk about the future, one word keeps coming up: stability.

“I think it would be stability,” Nicole says. “To have peace. Because we’ve had a lot of problems. Personal problems. Health problems. Things we can’t control. So the most important thing for next year, hopefully, is a lot of peace. Especially for both of us.”

Since September, we’ve been hit with one challenge after another. Not just the normal adjustment struggles, but real, heavy life stuff. The kind that makes you want to “throw away the towel,” as they say in Costa Rica.

“If there are problems, let it be one problem at a time,” Nicole laughs. “Not all at the same time.”

Beyond peace, we’re both hoping our personal projects finally take off. We’ve been working on various ideas for years now. Side hustles. Creative ventures. Things that could give us more freedom and flexibility.

“Hopefully, some of those projects together can work,” Nicole says. “That we have that home run.”

We don’t have all the answers yet about where we’ll end up long term. But we’re here now. We’re making it work. And we’re taking it one day, one challenge, one small win at a time.

Conclusion: Would She Do It Again?

I asked Nicole the big question: Knowing what you know now, would you still move to Switzerland?

Her answer? A long pause, then: “Yes. But I wish someone had told me the truth first.”

Our advice for anyone starting this journey:

Expect month 4 to be hell. Prepare for it mentally and financially.
Your identity will temporarily disappear. It comes back, but it takes time.
Don’t compare yourself to Instagram. Everyone else is struggling too. They just don’t post about it. “Don’t believe everything you see on social media. Being a tourist in another country is great. But living in another country? It’s not how you paint it.”
Plan for at least 6 months with no income. Even if you’re optimistic, plan for the worst.
You have to be very patient with the job hunt. And if you get an opportunity, take it. You can’t say “I have this title, so I won’t work there.” You have to give it your all.
Don’t lose your cultural identity. “You don’t have to change because you’re in another country. You have to adjust, obviously. Respect the rules. But you don’t have to lose that Latin part.” Don’t become someone else just because your partner is from there.
Stay connected to home, but also give your new country a fair chance.
Therapy or counseling isn’t weakness. It’s survival. Consider it seriously.
Remember: Problems will come. Hopefully one at a time, not all together. When they do, tackle them together.

What’s next for us? We’re still figuring that out. Nicole’s rebuilding her life here, one day at a time. We’re learning to blend Swiss precision with Pura Vida spontaneity. And we’re documenting all of it—the messy, unglamorous, real parts—so that other couples don’t feel so alone in this crazy journey.

Because that’s what this first year taught us: The truth connects us more than the highlight reel ever could.

Have you gone through a similar move to be with your partner? What was your hardest month? Share your experience in the comments below—we’d love to hear your story and connect with others who get it.