Making Friends Abroad: What Really Works When You’re Starting Over

A woman sitting alone at home, looking sad and lonely as she reflects quietly.
Photo by Yan Krukau via Canva

A realistic, hopeful guide for anyone starting over abroad

Sometimes I wish there were a starter kit for immigrants. Something like: “Here’s how to build a new life. Here’s how to make friends. Here’s how to feel at home again.” But there isn’t. You arrive, you try things, you fail a bit, you try again, and eventually you figure out what works for you.

Many immigrants start over as adults or young adults, long after their social circles have already formed. Making friends later in life is harder — not because we’re less friendly, but because we’ve already built deep, layered relationships at home. Losing that whole network at once is a shock, and replacing it is much harder than I ever expected. I didn’t realise how much I would struggle with this part.

Making friends abroad isn’t as simple as “just put yourself out there.” It depends on your personality, your upbringing, your energy levels, and how much emotional space you have left after rebuilding your life from scratch. For introverts — especially those who don’t enjoy superficial small talk — it can feel like a marathon of awkwardness.

But it is possible. And it doesn’t have to be miserable. Here’s what I’ve learned.

Accommodation: the accidental friendship zone

Living with others is one of the easiest ways to meet people without forcing anything. Flatmates often organise small gatherings — a birthday, a casual drink, or just inviting a few friends over. You don’t need to be the life of the party; you can join for a bit, chat with a couple of people, and retreat to your room whenever you’ve had enough. It’s socialising with a safety exit, which is perfect if you’re introverted or still finding your footing.

Hostels can be similar. Some hostels organise events, and many have a board on the wall with local activities. But honestly, hostels provide opportunities everywhere — in your room, the shared bathroom, the kitchen, or while hanging out in the common area. You don’t have to “try hard”; conversations just happen because everyone is in the same boat, starting fresh, figuring things out.

Studying & Language Schools

Sometimes I wish I had studied something abroad. It seems like such a natural way to meet people — you’re surrounded by others who are also starting fresh, and friendships grow through classes, projects, and shared routines.

Universities, polytechs, and training programmes naturally create connection through group work, workshops, and seeing the same faces every week. It’s one of the few environments where friendships form almost accidentally, simply because you spend time together.

Language schools are similar. They’re full of people from all over the world, and many of them organise social events, weekend trips, or conversation clubs. Even without official events, you meet people in class, during breaks, or while figuring out homework together. It’s an easy way to meet a mix of cultures without pressure.

Meetups: hit or miss

Meetups are also an obvious suggestion — language exchanges, sports, book clubs, singing groups. Some are warm and welcoming; others feel like walking into a high‑school cafeteria where everyone already knows each other.

There are plenty of platforms where you can find groups and events, and Meetup is one of the most popular ones worldwide: https://www.meetup.com/

I personally never clicked with big meetups. Walking into a room with 20+ strangers felt overwhelming. I’m a one‑on‑one person. I open up slowly. I need time.

If you’re the same, don’t force yourself into huge social situations. There are gentler ways.

Hobbies: the introvert‑friendly secret weapon

Hobbies are honestly the best way to meet people without the pressure of “making friends.”

When the focus is on the activity, everything becomes easier.

  • Swimming classes — only a few people, and you naturally chat before, during, after (especially when you’re all suffering together).
  • Dance classes — partners rotate, conversations happen, some people are chatty, some awkward, some lovely, some clearly there to flirt.
  • Any small group hobby — pottery, hiking, photography, cooking classes.

Many hobby groups and classes are listed on platforms like Eventbrite, which is great for finding workshops, courses, and local activities: https://www.eventbrite.com/

You’re doing something you enjoy, and friendships grow naturally around that.

Workplace: lower your expectations

Many locals already have their established circles. They’re friendly, but not necessarily looking for new best friends. I used to take this personally, but then I realised: back in Hungary, I didn’t actively look for immigrant friends either. Most people don’t.

Your best chance at work is usually other immigrants. But even then, it’s trial and error. Different cultures treat friendship differently. Some people feel like instant best friends but disappear for months. Others say “we should catch up” and are shocked when you actually try to organise something.

It’s a learning curve. Sometimes it’s fun, sometimes it’s heartbreaking. Eventually you figure out what kind of people you click with.

Through friends or a partner (once you have one)

This is the most natural way friendships grow. Once you have even one person in your corner, your circle expands — their friends, their partner’s friends, their flatmates, their colleagues. One connection leads to another.

These friendships often feel easier because you’re meeting people in a relaxed, familiar environment. You’re not walking into a room full of strangers; you’re joining a group where someone already knows you, vouches for you, and brings you into the conversation. It takes the pressure off.

And the nice thing is: you can take it at your own pace. Maybe you click with one person in the group. Maybe you only join every now and then. Maybe you become part of the wider circle without ever becoming “best friends” with everyone. It all counts. These soft, indirect connections often become the friendships that last.

Why Some Immigrants Stick to “Their Own”

When I first moved abroad, I couldn’t understand why so many people recreated a mini‑version of their home country. Same language, same food, same social circle. I used to think: Why leave if you’re going to rebuild the exact same life somewhere else?

But now I get it.

It’s easier. It’s easier to talk without translating your personality. It’s easier to joke without explaining the joke. It’s easier to share a background than to build one from scratch.

There’s comfort in familiarity, especially when everything else in your life feels foreign.

The downside is that these groups can become bubbles. Some people move abroad with childhood friends, university friends, or a whole community that relocates together. They never have to go through the immigrant experience alone. They don’t have to rebuild their identity or navigate cultural confusion from scratch. So when you talk about your own struggles or adjustments, they simply can’t relate — not because they don’t care, but because they never lived it.

My Complicated Relationship With “My Own People”

For a long time, I avoided Hungarians abroad. I had a couple of bad experiences early on — being cheated, then a dramatic friendship ending — and I thought, nope, I’m done with that. I wanted a fresh start, new people, new energy.

But once we started thinking about having a child, I realised something important: a weekly phone call and a trip home every few years wouldn’t be enough to keep Hungarian culture alive for him.

So we tried Hungarian folk dance. Then we went to a few community events. Now our son goes to a Hungarian club once a month.

It’s not about recreating Hungary abroad. It’s about giving him a connection to where he comes from — and giving me a sense of belonging I didn’t expect to find again.

Cultural Differences: the unspoken part of immigrant friendships

This part is tricky to write, because it’s easy to slip into stereotypes. But cultural differences do shape how friendships form, and it’s okay to talk about your personal experiences.

Here’s what I’ve noticed:

  • Some cultures are very high‑energy and expressive, which can feel overwhelming if you’re more reserved.
  • Some people grow up with friendships that are intense but inconsistent — lots of enthusiasm, fewer follow‑ups.
  • Some cultures are more traditional or hierarchical, which can make it harder to connect if you value independence or directness.
  • Some people come from environments where confidence is encouraged, and it can sometimes come across as entitlement.
  • Some communities have a competitive edge, where friendships feel like comparison rather than connection.
  • And then there’s the reserved one — the person who seems cold at first, but is really just out of place, overwhelmed, or needs time to warm up. I probably belong to this group. Some people think I’m not friendly, but I just open up slowly.

None of these traits define individuals. They’re just patterns you might notice, and they help you understand why some friendships feel effortless and others feel like hard work.

If you’re looking for a more international crowd, InterNations is a global expat network where people from different backgrounds connect: https://www.internations.org/

The Surprise Friendships (and the Lessons in Between)

And then there are the friendships you never see coming. The ones that happen when you’re not trying — just like love, I guess.

Buying something on Facebook Marketplace and ending up chatting with the seller. Standing in line for the bathroom at a party and suddenly having a deep conversation. Meeting someone at the playground, the gym, the bus stop.

Friendships abroad often appear in the most random places, but usually when we’re not desperate for them.

And here’s something I learned the hard way: Don’t lower your standards just to avoid being lonely.

In the beginning, I let too many people in because I felt isolated. Later I realised they weren’t really friends:

  • People who only meet when it suits them.
  • People who cancel last minute again and again — once is life, twice is bad luck, three times means you’re Plan B or C.
  • People who talk only about themselves and give you five rushed minutes to speak, while scrolling on their phone.
  • People who drain you instead of lifting you.

It’s painful, but it teaches you something important: your boundaries matter.

I’m not saying build walls so high no one can climb them. I’m saying respect yourself enough to walk away from friendships that don’t respect your time, your energy, or your humanity.

Sometimes it’s better to have no friends than the wrong ones. And when you start valuing yourself, the right people eventually find their way to you.

Gentle Reminders

These are the things I wish someone had told me earlier:

  • You don’t need many friends — just the right ones.
  • It takes time. Sometimes months, sometimes years, and that’s normal.
  • You’re not failing if you feel lonely. Every immigrant goes through this phase.
  • Your “village” might look different than you imagined.
  • Friendships abroad often grow slowly but deeply.
  • You can stay open to other cultures without losing your own.

Starting over abroad is messy and beautiful and lonely and surprising. You don’t need to get it right all at once. Friendships abroad grow slowly, and so do you.

If this post resonated with you, you may like the first part of my immigrant series, where I share how my journey abroad began:
Moving to New Zealand: My Real Immigrant Story (Part 1: The Leaving Phase)

You can also read my post about how friendships shift after motherhood and parental leave — another chapter of rebuilding community in a new country:
Why New Mums Feel Lonely: The Hidden Impact on Friendships

Three women sitting at a café, laughing together and enjoying a lively conversation.
Photo by Dean Drobot via Canva

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