By Lucy Castillo
The Fantasy of Starting Over in a New Country
People love the idea of beginning a new life somewhere far away: new cities, new languages, new beginnings.
Instagram shows airports, suitcases, pretty cafés, and curated dreams.
But almost no one talks about the emotional reality behind emigrating:
the loneliness, the fear, the responsibility, and the deep transformation it demands.
I know this story, because it’s mine.
The Beginning: The Decision That Changed Everything
I left home at eighteen.
I had never cooked, never cleaned, never lived alone.
I was an only child, raised by parents who worked tirelessly to give me everything they never had. They prepared me for everything — except leaving.
When I told my father I was moving to Chile to work as a nanny, his reaction was brutally honest:
“¿Te vas para limpiar culos ajenos?”
(“You’re leaving to clean someone else’s mess?”)
He didn’t say it to offend me.
He said it because he knew the real cost of emigrating — he had lived it himself.
But when you’re young, hungry, and determined, fear doesn’t stop you.
So I packed my bags anyway.
The First Shock No One Warns You About
People think emigrating is exciting.
What they don’t see is the first night in a stranger’s home, the silence, the doubt, the overwhelming thought:
“What am I doing here?”
My first job was in Santiago, Chile:
a huge house, four children, and three-month-old twins depending on a girl who barely knew how to depend on herself.
On the first day, I wanted to quit.
I told the girl working with me to let the mother, Silvana, know.
But Silvana told me something that shaped my entire life:
“In life, you must try first.
Give it a week.
If after that you can’t do it, I’ll understand.
But you have to try.”
So I stayed.
And the woman I am today began forming right there.
The Reality of Working Abroad: You Grow Because You Have No Choice
People call it bravery.
But most of the time, starting over abroad isn’t bravery — it’s survival.
You grow because you must.
You learn because there’s no one else to do things for you.
You mature because life gives you no alternative.
You learn to cook.
To run a household of six people.
To care for babies, toddlers, and older children — even when you still feel like a child inside.
My real education didn’t come from a classroom.
It came from the families who trusted me when I barely trusted myself.
Spain, New York, Seville, London, the Channel Islands, Miami, Paris…
Every country shaped me.
Every culture trained me.
Every mother demanded excellence.
Every child taught me patience, intuition, and unconditional love.
And the twins…
I cared for so many sets of twins that they became part of my identity.
The Loneliness No One Talks About
Here’s the part nobody includes in motivational quotes.
The loneliness of emigrating is heavy.
It’s silent.
It’s transformative.
When you’re alone in a new country, you learn resilience by force.
You gain emotional intelligence out of necessity.
You learn to grow without applause, without guidance, without family.
While people your age were studying or living comfortably at home, you were learning to survive in a new culture, a new language, a new reality.
You wake up to care for children who are not yours.
You love them as if they were.
And every time you leave a family, your heart breaks a little.
The Truth About Caring for Children Abroad
People often say:
“I’d love a job like yours.”
But they don’t understand the responsibility behind taking care of someone else’s child.
Being a nanny is not:
- playing
- feeding
- changing diapers
Being a nanny (a real one) is:
- understanding emotions children can’t express
- protecting their routines
- noticing their fears
- giving them emotional safety
- being their calm when everything feels new
- earning a family’s trust
- providing stability in a constantly changing environment
A nanny isn’t simply hired — she is trusted.
And trust is the highest form of payment a family can give.
How I Became a High-Standing Nanny Without Ever Chasing It
People assume I reached high-profile families by luck.
I didn’t.
I got there because every family made me better.
Because every mother demanded excellence.
Because every child deserved stability and love.
Because every country forced me to adapt.
I didn’t build a job.
I built a reputation.
A reputation strong enough to open doors to elite households, private families, and eventually the world of professional football — a world where discipline, discretion, and emotional intelligence are everything.
I didn’t arrive there through privilege.
I arrived there through resilience.
If You’re Thinking About Starting Over Abroad, Here’s What You Need to Know
You will feel scared.
You will feel lost.
You will feel unprepared.
But if you move with humility, discipline, and heart…
You will find families who change your life.
Children who transform you.
Cities that expand your worldview.
Opportunities you never imagined.
Strength you didn’t know you had.
And a version of yourself you would never meet if you stayed home.
Emigrating is not easy.
It’s not glamorous.
It’s not simple.
But if it’s your path, it will shape you into someone extraordinary.
A Message From Me to You
If you’re a young woman dreaming of leaving home — this story is for you.
If you’re a mother searching for the right nanny — I hope my story brings clarity.
If you’re a family looking for guidance — this is the standard of care your children deserve.
If you’re already abroad fighting your own battles — you’re not failing.
You’re transforming.
And transformation always feels uncomfortable at first.