Holding Space While People Rebuild: The Real Work of Relocation
- Allison Taylor
- Jul 17
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 24

Eighteen months ago, Vee moved from Singapore to Melbourne, entirely alone. Her husband couldn't come with her because he had to sort out family affairs and finish a critical work project back home, which meant she'd be flying solo for about 12 months - the first time she'd ever been away from her husband and family.
I remember thinking she'd be fine. After all, she works in HR, understands transitions better than most, and seemed genuinely excited about the adventure ahead. I was utterly wrong.
The crash came fast and hard. What started as excitement quickly transformed into something much darker - overwhelming stress and the kind of loneliness that makes you question everything.
"People become incredibly vulnerable during relocation, even smart, capable professionals who should theoretically know better."
What really struck me was how her emotional state affected everything, even the most practical decisions. I showed her properties that were genuinely perfect for her needs, but she couldn't see past her overwhelming feelings. "You know I was not at my best during the relocation," she told me over coffee recently, her voice carrying a mix of humour and lingering disbelief. "You saw me at my worst. I was so consumed by stress and loneliness that I could not see straight."
This is something we don't discuss enough in our industry. People become incredibly vulnerable during relocation, even smart, capable professionals like Vee, who should theoretically know better. When you strip away someone's support system and drop them in a new country, the practical stuff - finding a place, learning new routines, figuring out cultural differences - becomes overwhelming when you're emotionally drowning.
For Vee, being separated from her husband for the first time in her adult life created a perfect storm where everything felt impossible, no matter how logical or suitable the solutions we presented.
"When you strip away someone's support system and drop them in a new country, the practical stuff becomes overwhelming when you're emotionally drowning."
But here's what I've learned from watching her journey unfold. Recovery takes real time, not weeks, but months of gradual rebuilding. Over the past 18 months, I've watched Vee transform from someone who couldn't think straight to someone who's not just surviving but genuinely thriving in Melbourne. We've stayed in touch throughout this process, checking in from time to time, and honestly, witnessing her growth has been one of the most rewarding parts of my job. It's reminded me why we do this work in the first place.
What this taught me: When someone's stressed and alone, they simply can't see what's right in front of them, even when you're showing them exactly what they need.
The solution isn't to push harder - it's to be patient, really patient, and understand that their inability to see isn't a character flaw.
Family separation amplifies everything to an almost absurd degree. A minor inconvenience becomes a major crisis, and understanding this helps you respond with empathy instead of frustration when nothing seems to be working. The people who struggle most at the beginning aren't necessarily the ones who'll struggle long-term. Vee's transformation is living proof that initial reactions don't predict outcomes, and sometimes the most challenging clients become the most successful ones.
The real lesson?
Relocation isn't a logistical problem to solve. It's a human experience to support.
Vee can now laugh about her "worst" moments with me. She's gained perspective, found her footing, and built a new life. But she needed time, patience, and someone who understood that her emotional state wasn't a character flaw - it was part of the process.
Comments