Navigating Parenting Abroad: The Beauty in Building Your Own Village

“It takes a village to raise a child.” It’s a beautiful sentiment, but once you’re raising kids a 15-hour flight away from help, the traditional “village” doesn’t exist. Here is how to navigate parenting abroad when you’re starting with limited local support.

During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, we left our long-time home of Shanghai, China, and moved to Germany, equipped with only four suitcases containing everything we could physically pack and carry to our new destination. We had no idea what to expect, how the system in Germany worked, or what the future held. We were starting completely fresh amidst the massive life stressors of an international move and an uncertain world. To top it all off, I was six months pregnant with no idea where I would deliver my baby, or how I would do it in a language I didn’t speak.

Although my dreams were coming true in so many ways, newly married and a baby on the way, my reality was a version I had never imagined, nor prepared for.

My mother, bless her, was able to fly over for the birth of my daughter. The birth and recovery were more complicated than anticipated, and I absolutely could not have survived without her. She saved us again with the birth of my son three years later, caring for our daughter during an extended hospital stay.

But the reality is that we only see her once or twice a year, usually for a few precious days. My husband’s parents live in Australia, and we see them even less.

Although our children are deeply loved by their grandparents, while they are growing up (and their grandparents are growing old), they are loving each other through the screen of a phone. There is no weekend at grandma’s, no cousins down the street, and no family gatherings for birthdays, holidays, or any other significant life milestones.

There are moments when I hear friends talk about dropping their children off with grandparents for the afternoon, or even the weekend, and I must admit, I feel jealous. There are days when I am overwhelmed and I would love to call my mom and ask if she can just watch the kids for an hour or two, or even just grab a coffee with me so I feel less alone.

But that simply isn’t our reality. If you’re reading this while raising children far from family, perhaps it isn’t yours either. Know that you aren’t alone.

The true breaking point for many expat parents is logistical survival. When both parents work and you have zero backup, a simple issue like a child catching a standard daycare virus throws your entire life into chaos.

There is no grandma down the street to help by cooking a meal, to stay with the child so you can work, or to run to the store for supplies. You’re forced to burn through your own time off work, or left to make up the hours late into the night once your children are asleep. You have no capacity left to care for yourself once you inevitably catch the virus next. Larger emergencies are enough to break you entirely. But don’t give up, everything is manageable.

For me, the hardest moment came when my father passed away last year. My children never got to meet him in person. When my son was just five months old and my daughter was three, I needed to fly alone to the United States to handle my father’s affairs.

The news came unexpectedly, and my husband wasn’t able to take time off work. I had to catch the next possible flight, alone, with two small children.

If you’re facing traveling alone with young kids, I’ve learned that preparation matters, but flexibility matters more. In this situation, I had neither. However, children often surprise us; mine were incredible. Was the situation ideal? Absolutely not. But we got through it together. Luckily, I had traveled a few times alone with my daughter, so I knew the ropes a bit. (I’ll share specific tips on surviving a solo international flight with two little ones in a future post.) However, sometimes the things we dread most become the exact reminders of how capable we really are.

It took us nearly two years of trial, error, and immense frustration just to piece together a foundational community. If you thought making friends as an adult was challenging, try doing it in a country where you don’t speak the language while juggling a new baby.

At that point, finding our people felt more like speed dating than actual connection. It isn’t just about finding another adult you like anymore; you are balancing an entire ecosystem. You have to match with the parent, ensure your spouses get along, and make sure your children are compatible, too.

One lesson I’ve learned is that a village doesn’t always arrive the way you expect it to. Sometimes you have to build it yourself, and you have to put yourself out there. I promise, in time, you will find your people.

My dear friend here made my son’s first birthday cake this month. To others, this might seem like a small gesture, but to me, it meant the world. Like myself, she is an expat mother without family support in Germany. Despite having little time for herself, she spent hours creating a cake for him and will be memorialized in our family’s memories forever. There is an unspoken understanding about the loneliness you feel watching your kids navigate their world without family there to physically share your joy. However, she showed up for us to ease some of this sorrow.

That is what a village looks like. It doesn’t have to be composed of those who share the same blood. When you live abroad, your village is the friend who drops off soup when everyone is sick. It’s the neighbor who brings in your packages when you’re on vacation. It’s the friends who remember your child’s birthday or who check in just to make sure you’re okay.

A village can be chosen.

When someone offers help, consider saying yes. Let them bring dinner. Accept the clothes their kids have outgrown. Share your own cultural traditions with them, and take pride in learning theirs. Let them show up for you.

Most people genuinely want to help, and giving them the opportunity to do so can be a gift for both of you. Likewise, if you are in the position to help someone else, take the risk and do so without expecting anything in return. A small gesture might mean more to another parent than you could ever imagine.

Parenting without a village can feel lonely, exhausting, and unfair. There will be days when you are overwhelmed, homesick, and wonder how everyone else makes it seem so easy.

Give yourself grace. You’re parenting, building a community, trying to create stability, and navigating a culture that is not your own. You’re doing better than you think.

Although our children might not have grandparents around the corner, they are still growing up surrounded by love. Yes, they may miss out on some of the traditions that were fundamental to our own identities growing up. Yes, this might not be how you imagined your life would look.

But they are learning resilience. They are learning adaptability. And perhaps most importantly, they are learning that community can be built, one act of kindness at a time.

One village at a time.