• When I moved from New Zealand to the US, I didn't realize how much it would actually cost me.
• It's been hard for me to be away from family and to build a community in a new place.
• When I visit my home country, I often experience reverse culture shock.

I moved from New Zealand to California more than 12 years ago after I met and married an American.

Even though I've been in the US for a long time now, I still experience some of the same challenges I did when I first moved here. Plus, I never stopped feeling the pull of home and the family I left behind in New Zealand.

However, visiting home doesn't always bring the same comfort it once did, as it can be hard to readjust to a culture I haven't lived with for over a decade.

Sometimes, it feels like I have my heart in two countries, but I don't completely belong to either.

Here are some of the biggest challenges I've faced as an expat.

Figuring out how to navigate unfamiliar cultural norms has been difficult

When I first moved here, I discovered the US tends to have a much more cutthroat, competitive culture where people can be overlooked or dismissed if they're not prepared to speak loudly and clearly about their accomplishments.

Back in New Zealand, however, I was used to — and raised in — a culture that encourages people to act humble.

As Kiwis, we don't tend to talk up our accomplishments and we try to give credit to others (even if it rightly belongs to us) for fear of being seen as braggarts. Those who are seen as being "too big for their boots" are deliberately knocked down a peg — a phenomenon so popular in Australia and New Zealand that locals have a term for it: "tall poppy syndrome."

Though they may be small, these sorts of cultural differences can feel like a minefield to navigate and have made some social interactions a source of stress for me for many years.

Being far from family has been tough for me, both financially and emotionally

Although my husband is American, we live far from any family — his nearest relatives are four hours away.

It's been tough to raise our daughter without access to a village of family members.

I especially miss having a community at my 10-year-old daughter's soccer games, where I'm often surrounded by many multigenerational families cheering on their kids. I can't help but feel sad that she doesn't get to experience having a ready-made fan club on the sidelines because her family is so far away.

I'd love to visit our family overseas more often, but it's just not possible when flights between San Francisco and Auckland typically cost over $1,000 — even when booking months in advance.

We can only afford to visit New Zealand every two years or so, and I worry how the distance will impact my daughter's relationships with family over time.

My daughter has cousins in New Zealand and Australia ranging in age from 4 to 16. She's often asked me if we can move closer to them, and I feel bad we can't visit more often.

It's also tough for my family overseas to visit the US, in part due to the exchange rate. The New Zealand dollar is worth about 60 cents here, so a USD$1,000 plane ticket would cost them about NZD$1,790. My brother and sister-in-law even cut a planned trip to the US short because of how expensive it was for them.

These travel costs have also made it tough to navigate family emergencies over the past few years — especially when I got a call that my dad was in the ICU after a nasty fall last year.

Any flights home within the next two weeks would've cost well over $2,500 — way over my budget. Instead, I had to get updates from family over the phone and cheer him on from home as he recovered.

I don't feel completely at home in New Zealand anymore, either

Most of my family still lives in New Zealand, but time and distance naturally create a disconnect with everyday life in my home country.

I look forward to my visits back home, but over the past few years, I've experienced reverse culture shock, a phenomenon that can cause expats to feel like tourists in their country of birth.

It can manifest in relatively simple things, such as not understanding local pop-culture references or feeling removed from the everyday issues that concern my fellow Kiwis. Unfortunately, this has meant my old home can feel strikingly unfamiliar, and there's sometimes a disconnect when I visit.

I can cheer on the All Blacks rugby team, hunt down Kiwi-inspired meat pies, and enjoy the company of fellow expats. However, both my home country and my family are inevitably changing and growing — so I don't always feel a sense of belonging in either the US or New Zealand.

Still, I've done my best to adapt to a new culture and accept a new sense of "normal" about people, places, and routines. Despite the challenges, I feel like I'm in a good place in California, and the relationships I've slowly been building with those around me make life worthwhile.

My experience as an expat hasn't felt easy — but at the end of the day, I'm happy I took a chance on myself and followed my heart.

• As an American who spent six months moving around Europe, I encountered lots of surprises.
• I learned the hard way that not every country in the European Union uses euros.
• Not being able to understand background conversations was a bizarre feeling.

When I traveled around Europe, visiting places like France, Great Britain, and the Czech Republic, several things instantly stood out about how different living in Europe was from living in the US.

However, there were also some "slow burn" realizations I discovered the longer I was immersed in different cultures. Although some of them were pleasant surprises, others were less-welcome eye-openers.

Here are the five things that surprised me most about life in Europe.

A close trip for me was considered exceptionally far by some locals.

Like many Americans, I'm used to taking long road trips. In my opinion, anything less than 12 hours is reasonable to drive in a day.

So, I applied this same mindset to traveling around Europe. Instead of driving, though, I enjoyed the passing hours on trains.

However, I noticed several times that my travels shocked the locals. For example, my eight-hour train ride from Basel, Switzerland, to Amsterdam surprised one hotel worker, who couldn't believe I'd be traveling that far in a day.

When I tried to explain my experience with road trips in the States, I'd often receive blank looks in return. One woman was shocked when I told her you could drive for 12 hours in Texas and still be in the same state.

A Google search later, we realized she could drive for the same amount of time from her hometown of Brussels all the way to Milan.

I realized how much your perspective changes when traveling between countries, not states.

Not every country in the European Union takes euros.

I rarely carry cash anymore. However, I knew some remote areas I'd be visiting in the Czech Republic may not take credit cards. So, I pulled out some euros.

However, I received a bewildered look from a Czech takeout worker when I tried to pay with this currency.

I learned that although the Czech Republic is part of the European Union, it doesn't use the euro. In fact, of the 27 nations in the EU, seven countries don't use euros: Bulgaria, the Czech Republic, Denmark, Hungary, Poland, Romania, and Sweden.

Although some of these countries may adopt the use of euros in the future, I'll double-check before traveling to these places.

Not being able to understand background conversations was a bizarre feeling.

I spent three months in areas where English wasn't the primary language. At first, it was exciting to try my hand at broken French or German to communicate with a shop owner.

I also met locals who spoke fluent English, allowing me to still have rich conversations in my native tongue.

However, around two months in, I realized that I was desperately missing something that I'd never given much thought to: background conversations.

These are the discussions that you pass by, but you're not in: a couple figuring out dinner plans, a mom and child choosing which apples to buy, or a worker helping a customer find a certain size.

Although I was often surrounded by people, I didn't anticipate the loneliness that set in when I couldn't understand the everyday conversations happening around me.

I was impressed by how well-behaved the dogs were.

Living in Colorado, I'm used to dog-friendly shops and restaurants. However, if I see a dog in public, that pup is on a leash.

This wasn't the case for much of Europe. Whether in a quiet neighborhood, park, or busy city center, people would go about their business with their dogs next to them — without leashes.

Although the dog might straggle behind, one whistle and they'd promptly return to their owner's side.

I'm not sure what the Europeans are doing to train their pooches so well — but it's obviously working.

I couldn't get over the sheer age of everyday places.

Europe is famous for its centuries-old churches and landmarks, but what I enjoyed most was finding history in ordinary properties. I'd wander into a deli or bookshop and spot a small sign revealing that the building was older than my home country.

My favorite instance of this was a pub in Edinburgh that I was told to check out. Before walking in, I did a double take when I saw the year the pub opened: 1360. As I sipped on my drink, I couldn't help but wonder who else enjoyed a pint in this very same spot throughout the years.

But that was a discovery for another day. There are only so many surprises a gal can take.

• Since moving from DC to Denver two-and-a-half years ago, I've experienced many culture shocks.
• I've found people like to discuss their hobbies in Denver, but many focus on their careers in DC.
• I've also noticed that people in Denver seem more laid-back compared to those in DC.

When I boarded my flight from Washington, DC, to Denver in May 2022, I ruminated in my window seat for hours, wondering what my new home would be like.

I was leaving behind the nation's capital — the place where I'd spent almost three years launching my career and growing through my 20s.

Hopping from city to city wasn't new to me. I was born in Seattle and raised outside New Orleans before pursuing my master's degree in Phoenix.

However, every region has its own distinct culture, and I suspected the transition from the East Coast to the Rocky Mountains would be a little bumpy. Still, I didn't expect just how different the two parts of the country would be.

Here are a few of the biggest culture shocks I experienced when I headed west.

Many seem enamored with their hobbies in Denver, but careers typically come first in DC

Your choice of ski pass isn't just a question Denver residents will pose to you as an icebreaker. In my experience, it's a constant topic of conversation among friends and colleagues.

In fact, I've found that skiing, snowboarding, camping, hiking, rock climbing, and white-water rafting are topics that constantly come up in conversation.

I've met plenty of Denver residents with impressive careers, but their hearts often belong to their hobbies.

Meanwhile, many people I met in DC lived to work. I'd inevitably be asked what I did for a living at almost every house party I attended. Young professionals primarily move to DC for their education and careers, so networking is a way of life.

The city is packed with journalists, lobbyists, and government employees, so it's not uncommon to see someone toting a work laptop to happy hour.

The cities' definitions of style don't align

In DC, my favorite activity was ticking restaurants and bars off my list, taking in the cosmopolitan city in seasonal dresses and heels.

However, since moving to Denver, what's left of my collection of cocktail dresses is gathering dust on hangers. Here, athleisure, flannels, and denim are the norm.

The climates in Denver and DC are completely different beasts

I was adept at handling DC winters. When snow occasionally fell over the city, I bundled up in a coat and gloves to build snowmen on the National Mall or braced myself for the chill in the air when I exited a Metrorail subway station.

Preparing for my inaugural Colorado winter, however, was much more intense. I bought my first pair of snow boots at age 27, and learned that Halloween usually brings a snowstorm, and the flurries continue through April.

For context, according to the National Weather Service's data from 1882-2015, Denver averages about 57.1 inches of snow per season. DC's average snowfall, which is based on data from 1991-2020, is roughly 13.8 inches.

Local attitudes couldn't be more different

Colorado straddles two prominent regional personality traits — the Midwest's kindness and the West Coast's easygoingness. Residents of the Centennial State get the best of both worlds with their friendly attitudes and sense of ease.

Despite Denver's urban sprawl, niceties from its cow-town days persist. Walking down a neighborhood sidewalk, I can usually count on smiles or greetings from passersby.

However, while living on the East Coast, I found many DC residents exuded the region's no-nonsense air, buzzing from place to place as efficiently as possible.

I got used to avoiding small talk in elevators and found the standard attitude in DC was both a little guarded and direct. It's not that locals were unkind — they're just booked and busy.

Yet, both places have one thing in common: hometown pride. I'm excited to embrace that attitude in Denver like I did in DC.

• When I moved from England to Florida 12 years ago, I found a few aspects of my new life strange.
• I was surprised by things like drive-thru banking and elaborate outdoor holiday displays.
• However, now that I'm acclimated to life in the States, I've grown to love these small luxuries.

Twelve years ago, I married my American husband and moved from York, England, to Florida.

Although I traveled through the US when I was younger and spent some time in Canada, I was initially puzzled by many aspects of American life.

However, now that I've been here for a while, I've grown to love many of the things I once found odd. Here are five aspects of life in Florida that I've grown to love.

I didn't realize how amazing drive-thru banking would be

Although there are some drive-thru banks in Europe, they're few and far between. And at first, I thought the concept was a bit lazy.

However, I came around to the idea when I was traveling in New England and experienced the freezing winter weather. And during my first Florida summer, it was nice to be able to stay in the air conditioning while I did my banking.

Turning right on red is a luxury

Not all states allow this traffic game changer, but Florida does. Turning right at a red light for the first time felt like getting away with something, as this convenient move generally isn't allowed in many European countries.

Fully accustomed to this upgrade, I probably couldn't drive in Europe now without racking up a stream of tickets.

The elaborate outdoor seasonal decor caught my attention

When I lived in England, a few twinkling lights and a rare lawn Santa typically signaled Christmastime. However, full-scale haunted-house Halloween decor and flags welcoming the Easter Bunny were new to me.

A little extra? Absolutely. However, they set the tone for the season, and I love it.

When it came time to vote in the US, I couldn't believe how many questions were on the ballot

Years ago, I cast my first vote as a US citizen in a presidential election. Then, I discovered lots of other questions on the ballot.

To vote in the UK, I'd draw my comically large X on a tiny piece of paper to answer the one and only question on it. Now I'm being asked about the best person to look after the local soil.

Having so much say in how your town is run is so fundamentally American — and a blessing I appreciate.

I now appreciate having ice in my drinks

In England, I rarely found drinks with ice. Since refills at many restaurants weren't free, watering drinks down with ice seemed almost sinful.

However, it didn't take long for me to appreciate this, living in the Sunshine State. Thanks to restaurants, in-house ice makers, and bags of the stuff at the supermarket, I've seen the light.

• I'm Australian but spend part of the year in New Orleans, and there's been some culture shock.
• American coffee isn't exactly my style, and biscuits are something totally different in the US.
• I easily got a driver's license in the US, which is good since there are drive-thrus everywhere.

Long before my first visit to New Orleans, I fell in love with the US city's historic culture. As an Australian, I never thought I'd get to call The Big Easy home, but now, I split my year living between the two countries.

Adjusting to life in New Orleans was an eye-opening experience, full of unexpected surprises and plenty of head-scratching moments.

Here are some of the biggest culture shocks I've encountered as an Aussie in the US.

I'm still getting used to American coffee

I never realized just how serious Australians, especially Melburnians, are about their coffee. I'm used to a certain standard and flavor.

Luckily, there are a handful of places that serve great coffee in the States — but I emphasize the word "handful."

After five years, it still astounds me to see Americans embrace sugary, syrup-filled drinks that barely resemble what I consider coffee.

Additionally, I can't believe drip coffee is still a thing here. It's a rarity where I'm from in Australia.

I thought it was way easier to get a driver's license in the US

In Australia, getting my driver's license was a drawn-out process involving learner's permits, over 120 hours of logged driving with a licensed driver, and a strict test.

In the US, getting my license felt like a breeze by comparison. I just had to sit in a theory class for a few hours and then spend eight hours behind the wheel with an instructor.

After that, my test was driving around the block, parking, using my turn signal, and boom, I had my license. The ease was both impressive and a little scary, considering they were letting me drive on what was recently the wrong side of the road to me.

The rules around getting licenses vary from state to state, and many Americans under the age of 18 have to undergo a more formal course/testing process. But I'm still shocked by how different my two experiences were.

I'm still getting used to linguistic differences around food

Navigating the language differences between the US and Australia, especially with food, is like playing a guessing game.

Imagine my surprise when I ordered biscuits for the first time in the US and got something more closely resembling scones. I was expecting what I now know to call a cookie.

I wonder if I'll ever stop ordering some chips and realizing too late that I should have said "fries." In Australia, both fries and chips are called chips — we just differentiate by saying "hot chips" for fries.

Things also get lost in translation with my accent

My Australian accent has caused some wild misunderstandings in the US.

From getting "Greary" written on my coffee cup instead of "Ree" to a drive-thru worker at Taco Bell thinking I was attempting to order pizza when I just said, "I have a mobile order," it's a daily game of "Guess What I Said."

It keeps things entertaining, to say the least, and it's also why I love being able to order via an app whenever I can.

Southern food has been a culinary awakening

New Orleans cuisine is an adventure for the taste buds. I've learned to embrace savory grits (I'd usually add sugar and eat them as porridge back home), and I've grown to love gumbo's rich flavors.

I fell in love with Southern food shortly after my arrival in the States. Still, walking into a whole new world of gastronomy was an adjustment.

There are some dishes — like white beans — that I just can't make my palate enjoy, and I have days when I long for the local fish-and-chip shop back home.

There's a drive-thru for everything in New Orleans

In New Orleans — and in many cities in the US — you can pull through the drive-thru for pretty much everything, from coffee shops to bars.

The strange looks I got from locals while taking a photo of a drive-thru bank for friends back home were amusing, and the concept of picking up a daiquiri to-go felt wild to me at first.

Now, I'm kind of hooked. It's the ultimate lazy convenience.

Americans use so much ice

Compared to what I'm used to in Australia, everything is supersized in the US. A "small" soda feels like a bucket to me.

However, I really don't understand why Americans love their drinks filled to the brim with ice.

Once you take that out, there's hardly any liquid, no matter how big the cup is.

Tipping culture is so confusing to me

The first time I came to the US, my biggest worry wasn't getting through immigration or having the right documents — it was tipping.

It sounds silly now, but I still find the practice of figuring out what percentage of my total I should leave behind confusing.

In Australia, tipping service workers isn't expected, and base wages are typically higher.