5 Lessons I Learned from My PhD Abroad: More Than Just Research
When I packed my bags couple of years ago, I thought I was only leaving home to study. I didn’t realize I was also stepping into a journey that would change me at the deepest level. A PhD sounds like an academic title, but when you do it far from home, far from family, and on a different continent, it becomes something else entirely: a story of resilience, loneliness, joy, and growth.
Resilience in Loneliness
There are things people don’t tell you about a PhD. They don’t tell you about the birthdays you’ll miss, the family gatherings you’ll only see through photos, and the laughter you’ll hear only on a shaky video call. They don’t tell you how hard it feels to sit alone at Christmas while everyone else is with family, or how quiet Eid feels when there’s no one to share it with.
In those moments, I felt the weight of distance more than anything else. But slowly, I learned to create my own traditions, to light a candle and call it a celebration, and to cook a meal just for myself and still find comfort in it. That’s how resilience is born: not in grand victories, but in small acts of survival.
The Bittersweet Joy of Traveling
One of the blessings of studying abroad was the chance to see new places. I can still remember the excitement of boarding cheap flights with friends, staying in tiny hostels, and exploring cities I’d only seen in pictures. Those trips gave me joy, a reminder that even on a tight student budget, the world was still waiting for me.
But the budget was always there, a shadow I couldn’t ignore. Sometimes I had to say no to opportunities, to experiences that felt just out of reach. That sadness sat next to the joy. And yet, in that tension, I learned to appreciate what I could do. Every trip, every train ride, every shared laugh in a new city felt like a miracle.
Discipline When No One is Watching
Back home, there was always family; someone to remind me to eat, to rest, to take care of myself. Abroad, it was just me. If I didn’t wake up, no one noticed. If I didn’t write, no one asked. If I skipped meals, no one knocked on my door.
I had to become my own reminder. I learned to push myself on the days I felt empty, to cook simple meals after long hours at the desk, and to create routines that kept me grounded. It wasn’t motivation that kept me going. It was discipline, the quiet kind that grows when no one is clapping for you.
Patience With Life’s Pace
The waiting felt endless sometimes. Waiting for results. Waiting for feedback. Waiting for visas, for money transfers, for the next time I could afford a ticket home. The pace of life abroad wasn’t only slow; it was uncertain.
And yet, patience became my teacher. I began to see waiting not as wasted time, but as a space where growth was happening quietly, even if I couldn’t see it. I learned that patience isn’t passive; it’s a form of strength, a trust that things will unfold in their time.
Gratitude for What I Left Behind
It took leaving home to realize how much I had. The things I once overlooked; my mother’s cooking, my father’s advice, the sound of my siblings arguing in the background; became treasures in my memory. Distance has a way of sharpening gratitude.
I learned to find family in phone calls, in messages, in video calls that froze halfway through but still carried love. I learned to see friends abroad as chosen family, people who understood the same struggles and shared the same loneliness. Gratitude became the thread that stitched my days together.
What These Years Gave Me
My PhD abroad taught me more than how to research or write a thesis. It taught me how to be alone without losing myself, how to find joy even when money was tight, how to celebrate quietly, and how to keep walking even when the road felt endless.
Looking back now, these three years gave me more than a degree. They gave me:
- The strength to stand alone and still keep going.
- The courage to face loneliness and turn it into quiet growth.
- The patience to endure uncertainty and still move forward.
- The gratitude to see how precious home, family, and connection really are.
It taught me that resilience isn’t loud; it’s built in the quietest, loneliest moments.
And maybe that’s the real degree I earned.