2 • You're not choosing a country. You're choosing a life.

Where should I move? Every time someone asks me this question, I know they’re asking the wrong one.

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The beach in Pondicherry with locals enjoying the sunset. [Artist photographer]

The perfect destination is a myth. A place is never objectively good or bad. You do not forget your homeland when you leave it, quite the opposite. Distance sharpens your understanding of it, helping you pinpoint exactly what you love, what you miss, what you’ve outgrown. And while many seek solace in expat communities, that sense of belonging is optional. You will never forget the land of your birth, the memories etched into its streets, or the scents that carry you back in an instant. That is your strength: it does not define you entirely. You are becoming so much more. I also spent time in Pondicherry. Many French expats dream of its colonial charm and its quiet beaches. I did not. For me, it was too loud, too hot, a relentless hive of activity that never slept; and yet, compared to Mumbai or Delhi, it was considered a paradise. Perception is everything.

The places that changed me were never the ones people recommended. I love the places nobody talks about, the ones absent from blogs, ignored by "Top 10" lists. Yercaud and Ilet à Cordes, two places I once called home. These were not destinations; they were revelations. They built me, shaped me, taught me lessons no guidebook could convey.

For those who work remotely, who create—writers, painters, artists—the place itself transcends geography. It becomes a source of inspiration, a foundation for growth, a wellspring of emotional connection. And if you ever crave the familiarity of home? Expats are easy to find. Embassies and consulates stand ready. You are never truly alone. Social media, for those who want it, keeps the thread unbroken.

When people ask, "Where should I move?" they often speak of solitude or community, safety or adventure, meaning or nature, the desire to slow down or to embrace the unknown. But they rarely grasp the truth: they are not choosing a country, they are choosing a way of life. So instead of asking where, ask yourself: How much nature do I need to feel alive? Do I thrive in anonymity, or do I crave recognition? Does my soul require the daily hum of cultural stimulation, or does it flourish in silence? What level of convenience am I willing to sacrifice for the life I dream of?

Expatriation is not about crossing borders; it is about redefining yourself. It is the search for a place where your values align with your surroundings, where the rhythm of life matches the beat of your heart. A place can be right for ten years and wrong the next. Perfect for one person, suffocating for another. The question is not where to go, it is how you want to live.

My own life was never built according to a plan. I was a good student, destined for a promising future and the kind of life most people are expected to build: a stable career, a comfortable home, a family, and a future that looked perfectly predictable.

There was nothing wrong with that future. It simply never felt entirely like mine. Even before I could explain it, I was drawn toward something else: discovery, movement, unfamiliar places, and the feeling that life might be bigger than the map that had been drawn for me. Then Morocco entered my life, followed by India, and later Réunion Island. Each step pushed me beyond my comfort zone and taught me something I could never have learned by staying where I was. Looking back, I realize that none of those decisions were mistakes, even the difficult ones. Every place changed me. Every experience revealed a little more about who I was becoming. That is why I never see expatriation as a success-or-failure decision. Moving abroad is not an exam you pass or fail. It is a chapter of your life. Some chapters last a few years, others much longer, but each one teaches you something valuable about yourself and about the world around you.

And if you have children, the experience can be an extraordinary gift. Not because it is always easy, but because it teaches openness, adaptability, curiosity, and the understanding that there are many different ways to live a meaningful life.

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Piton de la Fournaise: the volcano on Reunion Island [Artist photographer]

Don’t ask where you should move. Ask: What kind of life do I want to wake up to every morning? Then, and only then, look for the place that allows that life to exist.


Follow the story ...

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1 • I was born in France, but I had to travel the World to find home.

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2 • You're not choosing a country. You're choosing a life.

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3 • Why I never reveal my favorite places

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4 • The Geography of belonging: Slow expatriation

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5 • The Geography of opportunity • Why the countryside might be more relevant than ever

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6 • The Geography of dreams: Who decides what a successful life looks like?


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I’m Leti (short for Laetitia). My life has unfolded between France, Morocco, India, and Réunion Island, shaped by rural and remote landscapes that taught me one thing: a place only becomes 'home' when you weave deep connections there. Today, I create projects for those who, like me, seek to live with intention, whether by settling abroad, reimagining their relationship with the countryside, or simply choosing a meaningful daily life.


My Incredible LifeEuropean Conscious Slow Life Studio