• Nina Unlay fulfilled her dream of working in London when she landed a reporter job in 2019.
• After only 10 months, she got on a flight back home to Manila and fell in love soon after.
• She's unsure if the Philippines is where she wants to start a family, but she knows it's where she'll retire.

When I landed a job in my dream city, I thought the hard part was over.

In 2019, I got my master's degree in journalism in London and was hired as an entry-level business reporter, making $36,000 a year.

Journalists back home, in Manila, Philippines, where I grew up, earn an average annual salary of $7,000. So, despite this being on the lower end for the UK, where the median gross annual salary for a full-time employee is about $45,400 — I was thrilled. Also, after having studied in London, I knew that this was enough for me to get by.

I soon learned that if I managed to stick around in London for five years, that's all it would take for me — a non-EU citizen — to get permanent residency.

This year, 2024, was the year when I may have gotten my permit — if I had chosen to stay.

Living in London

My life was so cool. I lived in a warehouse conversion with five other Londoners. Our living room could fit a DJ and a hundred dancing people. Our rooftop overlooked Victoria Park. I paid $1,075 a month in rent for my room.

I made great friends in London, many of whom, like me, were also journalists in flux. We spent our free days having picnics and discovering new parks; our nights barhopping around East and North London.

I was in love with the city. I never felt alone; I enjoyed every morning stroll through Broadway Market, every new café I discovered in my neighborhood in Hackney, and every afternoon spent people-watching along the pathways by Regent's Canal.

Despite the cost of living in London being 150% higher than in Manila, the salary bump at my new job was enough to greatly improve my quality of living: reliable transportation, air quality, healthcare standards, and the whole shebang. Many of the places I enjoyed — markets, museums, and parks — were free to visit.

I did miss certain things about living in the Philippines, such as the reliable presence of the sun, quick getaways to white-sand beaches, the cheap and delicious food, and, of course, family.

But in London, it felt like I had a life where anything was possible.

When the COVID-19 pandemic was declared in March 2020, I had to make a decision. Just a few days later, my things were packed, and I was on a flight back to Manila.

A dramatic exit from the diaspora

During the two years I spent living in London, I started having an irrational fear that if one day planes lost the ability to fly, I would never go home again. The pandemic made that fear feel less silly and more real. It forced me to choose: Did I want to build a life around my favorite city, or build a life around my favorite people?

Moving abroad is a popular narrative in the Philippines, one that I was fed growing up. My parents talked about the opportunity to work abroad with me often, pointing out relatives who had done it in the past and almost using them as role models. I developed a belief that there was a "better life" waiting abroad. And it's not wrong.

According to this year's global ranking of liveable cities, according to the Economist Intelligence Unit, Metro Manila, ranked low, at 135 out of the 173 cities surveyed. The EIU bases its Global Liveability Index on a range of factors including availability and quality of public and private healthcare, culture, education, and crime.

The city is one of the most densely populated regions globally.

Migration is part of the Filipino identity. Up to 10% of the population lives abroad, thanks to a system of government-funded training programs that focus on the high-demand career skills required of overseas workers and departments and agencies that streamline the migration process.

It's part of the reason the Filipino diaspora is so huge. I've said goodbye to so many family members and friends throughout my life — my video calls are to family based in cities that include Vancouver, Toronto, Portland, and New York.

But the truth is that the majority of Filipinos who leave aren't doing so because they want to explore the world. They leave because they feel compelled to — that they need to either for themselves or often also for their families. I am just one of the fortunate few who had the privilege and the means to choose for myself.

Manila, my Manila

In Metro Manila, I never feel alone. The people here are the city's best part. They make Manila what it is; an imperfect place, held up by tape, with good food and people who know how to make the best of a crappy hand.

It is not a dream city. It is hot and humid, but full of heart. I try to enjoy how bright the sun is here — especially when compared to the gray and foggy skies in London. I still remind myself that I am privileged to be home, where I can afford a life that keeps my loved ones close.

Four years after returning from London, I've shifted to a career, working at an advertising and communication agency in the Philippines. I moved into a new apartment, and found the person I plan to marry. It is our little inside joke that I traded London for the chance to find him here.

My fiancé is a Filipino-American who was born in Virginia and moved to the Philippines when he was 5. Sometimes we mull over the possibility of moving to the US and attempting to get citizenship for me. We talk about the possibility of having children and how this might give them better options for their future. We feel compelled to at least consider it.

But whenever we think about retiring, it is always, gratefully, in the Philippines; in our warm, crowded Manila, in the presence of the people we love most.