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DTSTART;TZID=Europe/Paris:20260813T183000
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DTSTAMP:20260731T231847
CREATED:20260717T141132Z
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UID:114190-1786645800-1786645800@jetlaggersclub.com
SUMMARY:Jetlaggers Afterwork at OFF Paris Seine - Paris
DESCRIPTION:After 10 years of living abroad and bringing thousands of internationals together through Jetlaggers\, I’ve started noticing a pattern. Somewhere between our twenties and our thirties\, the way we build friendships quietly changes. We stop chasing numbers\, start valuing depth\, and realise that the hardest part of expat life isn’t always making friends… it’s learning to say goodbye.By Marie Anne You  · 4 min read The other day\, I caught myself doing something I promised I would never do again: comparing my life to everyone else’s. One friend had just bought a house\, another had announced she was pregnant (for the second time!)\, and someone else was getting married. For a few seconds\, I thought\, “Wow… everyone seems so much further ahead than me.” Then I stopped and laughed. How could I possibly compare my life to people who never had to rebuild theirs from scratch? I think that’s one of the biggest things nobody tells you before moving abroad. We all know we’re leaving our country\, but we rarely realise we’re also leaving behind an entire support system. Childhood friends\, neighbours who’ve known us forever\, cousins who live twenty minutes away\, colleagues who watched us grow into adults… everything that once happened naturally suddenly has to be recreated. You don’t just arrive in a new city. You arrive somewhere as a complete stranger\, in a place where nobody knows your story or even the person you used to be. It’s terrifying\, but it’s also strangely exciting. Maybe that’s exactly why so many of us leave in the first place: because\, deep down\, we needed a blank page. When I was twenty\, none of this ever crossed my mind. Living abroad felt like one endless adventure. I moved to New Zealand\, then Germany\, ans Colombia and my only goal was to say yes to everything. Drinks on a Tuesday? Of course. A spontaneous road trip? Count me in. Someone I’d met ten minutes earlier invited me to a barbecue? Perfect. Facebook albums were still a thing back then\, and I swear I had hundreds of photos with people whose last names I probably never even learned. Looking back\, it’s funny because I genuinely wanted people back home to think\, “She’s having the time of her life.” The funny thing is… I actually was.  At 20\, I wanted as many friends as possible.Somewhere between twenty and thirty\, though\, something quietly changed. I stopped caring about knowing everyone in the room and started caring about how people made me feel. Maybe it’s because I experienced my first friendship heartbreaks. Maybe it’s because I realised that not everyone is meant to stay forever. Or maybe it’s because living abroad teaches you something nobody prepares you for: the hardest part isn’t making friends. It’s watching them leave. If you’ve been an expat for a while\, you probably know exactly what I mean. You meet someone who slowly becomes family. You have your Tuesday drinks\, your Sunday brunches\, your traditions\, your inside jokes. They know your coffee order\, the name of your dog back home and exactly who to call when you’re having a bad day. Without even noticing it\, they’ve become part of your everyday life. Then\, one evening\, they casually tell you they’re moving to Dubai. Or Singapore. Or they’re simply going home. At first\, you promise each other that nothing will change. You’ll visit\, you’ll call\, you’ll text every week. And you really  mean it. But life has a funny way of carrying people in different directions. Weeks become months\, time zones get in the way and\, little by little\, the distance settles in without either of you really noticing. Maybe the hardest part of moving abroad isn’t starting over. It’s having to do it more than once. I’ve often compare  friendships to two stones lying next to each other on a beach. At first they’re touching. Then the tide changes\, the wind blows and little by little they’re carried in different directions. Nothing dramatic happens. They simply stop sharing the same place. I think friendships can be like that. The love doesn’t disappear\, but the life you built together slowly belongs to another chapter. Maybe that’s why making friends after thirty feels harder. Not because we’ve become less open\, less curious or less sociable\, but because we’ve learned what meaningful friendships are worth. Losing people hurts. Starting over is exhausting. So\, without even realising it\, we stop collecting friends and start choosing them more carefully. We look for kindness before popularity\, for peace before excitement and for people who feel like home rather than people who simply fill our weekends. Ironically\, I think that’s what makes friendships after thirty so much more beautiful. They take longer to build\, but they’re rarely superficial. You’re no longer looking for someone to grab a drink with on a Friday night. You’re looking for the people you’ll call when life falls apart\, the ones who’ll help you move apartments\, celebrate your wins and make a foreign country feel like home. Maybe making friends abroad doesn’t actually get harder after thirty. Maybe we’ve simply stopped looking for people to spend time with and started looking for people to build a life with. Over to you…I’m curious. Have you ever lost an expat friendship because someone moved away? Or do you think making friends has actually become easier with age? I’d love to hear your story. Come and share it with us on Instagram – who knows\, it might even inspire the next edition of The Jetlaggers Journal.  Marie-Anne YouFounder of Jetlaggers Building communities for internationals across Europe since 2015.
URL:https://jetlaggersclub.com/event/jetlaggers-afterwork-at-off-paris-seine-paris/
LOCATION:OFF Paris\, 86 Quai d’Austerlitz\, Paris\, Paris\, 75013\, France
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/png:https://jetlaggersclub.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/07/off.png
ORGANIZER;CN="Jetlaggers":MAILTO:info@jetlaggersclub.com
END:VEVENT
BEGIN:VEVENT
DTSTART;TZID=Europe/Paris:20260827T183000
DTEND;TZID=Europe/Paris:20260828T010000
DTSTAMP:20260731T231847
CREATED:20260717T140106Z
LAST-MODIFIED:20260717T140106Z
UID:114189-1787855400-1787878800@jetlaggersclub.com
SUMMARY:Jetlaggers Afterwork at Zoku - Paris
DESCRIPTION:After 10 years of living abroad and bringing thousands of internationals together through Jetlaggers\, I’ve started noticing a pattern. Somewhere between our twenties and our thirties\, the way we build friendships quietly changes. We stop chasing numbers\, start valuing depth\, and realise that the hardest part of expat life isn’t always making friends… it’s learning to say goodbye.By Marie Anne You  · 4 min read The other day\, I caught myself doing something I promised I would never do again: comparing my life to everyone else’s. One friend had just bought a house\, another had announced she was pregnant (for the second time!)\, and someone else was getting married. For a few seconds\, I thought\, “Wow… everyone seems so much further ahead than me.” Then I stopped and laughed. How could I possibly compare my life to people who never had to rebuild theirs from scratch? I think that’s one of the biggest things nobody tells you before moving abroad. We all know we’re leaving our country\, but we rarely realise we’re also leaving behind an entire support system. Childhood friends\, neighbours who’ve known us forever\, cousins who live twenty minutes away\, colleagues who watched us grow into adults… everything that once happened naturally suddenly has to be recreated. You don’t just arrive in a new city. You arrive somewhere as a complete stranger\, in a place where nobody knows your story or even the person you used to be. It’s terrifying\, but it’s also strangely exciting. Maybe that’s exactly why so many of us leave in the first place: because\, deep down\, we needed a blank page. When I was twenty\, none of this ever crossed my mind. Living abroad felt like one endless adventure. I moved to New Zealand\, then Germany\, ans Colombia and my only goal was to say yes to everything. Drinks on a Tuesday? Of course. A spontaneous road trip? Count me in. Someone I’d met ten minutes earlier invited me to a barbecue? Perfect. Facebook albums were still a thing back then\, and I swear I had hundreds of photos with people whose last names I probably never even learned. Looking back\, it’s funny because I genuinely wanted people back home to think\, “She’s having the time of her life.” The funny thing is… I actually was.  At 20\, I wanted as many friends as possible.Somewhere between twenty and thirty\, though\, something quietly changed. I stopped caring about knowing everyone in the room and started caring about how people made me feel. Maybe it’s because I experienced my first friendship heartbreaks. Maybe it’s because I realised that not everyone is meant to stay forever. Or maybe it’s because living abroad teaches you something nobody prepares you for: the hardest part isn’t making friends. It’s watching them leave. If you’ve been an expat for a while\, you probably know exactly what I mean. You meet someone who slowly becomes family. You have your Tuesday drinks\, your Sunday brunches\, your traditions\, your inside jokes. They know your coffee order\, the name of your dog back home and exactly who to call when you’re having a bad day. Without even noticing it\, they’ve become part of your everyday life. Then\, one evening\, they casually tell you they’re moving to Dubai. Or Singapore. Or they’re simply going home. At first\, you promise each other that nothing will change. You’ll visit\, you’ll call\, you’ll text every week. And you really  mean it. But life has a funny way of carrying people in different directions. Weeks become months\, time zones get in the way and\, little by little\, the distance settles in without either of you really noticing. Maybe the hardest part of moving abroad isn’t starting over. It’s having to do it more than once. I’ve often compare  friendships to two stones lying next to each other on a beach. At first they’re touching. Then the tide changes\, the wind blows and little by little they’re carried in different directions. Nothing dramatic happens. They simply stop sharing the same place. I think friendships can be like that. The love doesn’t disappear\, but the life you built together slowly belongs to another chapter. Maybe that’s why making friends after thirty feels harder. Not because we’ve become less open\, less curious or less sociable\, but because we’ve learned what meaningful friendships are worth. Losing people hurts. Starting over is exhausting. So\, without even realising it\, we stop collecting friends and start choosing them more carefully. We look for kindness before popularity\, for peace before excitement and for people who feel like home rather than people who simply fill our weekends. Ironically\, I think that’s what makes friendships after thirty so much more beautiful. They take longer to build\, but they’re rarely superficial. You’re no longer looking for someone to grab a drink with on a Friday night. You’re looking for the people you’ll call when life falls apart\, the ones who’ll help you move apartments\, celebrate your wins and make a foreign country feel like home. Maybe making friends abroad doesn’t actually get harder after thirty. Maybe we’ve simply stopped looking for people to spend time with and started looking for people to build a life with. Over to you…I’m curious. Have you ever lost an expat friendship because someone moved away? Or do you think making friends has actually become easier with age? I’d love to hear your story. Come and share it with us on Instagram – who knows\, it might even inspire the next edition of The Jetlaggers Journal.  Marie-Anne YouFounder of Jetlaggers Building communities for internationals across Europe since 2015.
URL:https://jetlaggersclub.com/event/jetlaggers-afterwork-at-zoku-paris-6/
LOCATION:Zoku Paris\, 48 Av. de la Porte de Clichy\, Paris\, 75017\, France
ATTACH;FMTTYPE=image/png:https://jetlaggersclub.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/07/zoku.png
ORGANIZER;CN="Jetlaggers":MAILTO:info@jetlaggersclub.com
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