Lately, I’ve been learning to ask a simple three-word question that’s helped me cut through noise, trends, and pressure.

It is particularly intriguing to me to look at Mon Mothma’s arc in Andor through the lens of William Bridges’ Transition Model: the Endings, the Neutral Zone, and New Beginnings. Through that lens, we see just how much her transformation echoes the process many of us go through during major life transitions.

Whether you’ve been home for a week or a decade, these truths are ones I come back to again and again in my work with returning expats. Think of this list as a gentle companion for the road ahead.

This is a gentle structure designed to help you pause, reflect, and reorient yourself—wherever you are in your reentry journey.

It’s not about fixing anything. It’s about creating space for growth.

Even though it’s written with Christian cross-cultural workers in mind, its structure and insights apply broadly to anyone navigating the emotional, spiritual, and practical challenges of repatriation.

Home is supposed to be familiar. Safe. Known. But for many people who have returned from living abroad, it feels more like landing in a version of your past life that doesn’t quite fit anymore. You may feel like a stranger in your own hometown, trying to reconnect with people who remember the “you” before your global experience.

What do you do when the institution you once trusted—a government, church, nonprofit, school, or company—shifts into something unrecognizable? What do you do when the values that once seem to reflect yours now feel foreign or even harmful?

Without debriefing you may:

• Struggle to explain your experience

• Feel like no one truly understands

• Miss opportunities to grow

• Carry unresolved grief or stress

It’s common—but it doesn’t have to be your story.

Instead of searching for a single place to call home, consider this: What if belonging isn’t about where you are, but about who you are becoming?

Sometimes, expats get stuck in a tourist mindset, consuming culture like a product instead of truly experiencing it. Here are three signs you might be doing the same—and how to shift toward deeper cultural adaptation.

Just like a kayaker must adjust to shifting tides and unexpected waves, people must adapt after a major life disruption.

By looking at repatriation and the expat experience through the lens of the hero's journey, we can see them for what they really are: not mere logistic transitions, but an opportunity for—and even an invitation to—profound personal transformation.

Take a moment to reflect on the trees outside your window. In winter, their branches stand bare, seemingly lifeless, against the cold wind. To the untrained eye, they appear dormant, stagnant, and still. But nothing could be further from the truth.

Not processing change works—until it doesn’t. The emotional clutter piles up, and eventually, it spills over. Just like a house jam-packed with old decorations, it starts to feel overwhelming and unlivable.

Letting go is not about erasing the past but about making room for the future. It’s a way of honoring who you were while stepping into who you’re becoming.

Transitions are challenging, but they’re also opportunities for growth and renewal. By avoiding these common mistakes and approaching change with intentionality, you can navigate life’s transitions with greater clarity and confidence.

Liminal spaces invite us to trust that the in-between is purposeful. Trust that the waiting isn’t wasted. Trust that the discomfort is shaping you into someone ready for what lies ahead. These spaces challenge us to let go of certainty and embrace possibility. It’s not easy, but it’s necessary.

While change might seem like the main event, transition is the deeper, more personal story.

Debriefing isn’t just a formal process; it’s a powerful way to turn our experiences—especially the tough ones—into valuable lessons.

Approaching travel with curiosity, respect, and an open mind can transform each of your trips into not just a great memory, but also an opportunity for growth.