Beyond the Postcards: The Unfiltered Reality of My UK Life

When I realised I was moving to UK, I got so excited. I couldn’t wait to ride in the famous double-decker buses and take Instagram worthy pictures in the red telephone booths. I was going to be a London girlie and my new life was going to be perfect and all my troubles would be left to fade away in the Namibian sun. But how wrong I was. Moving here has been the HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE!!! Ever since coming here, I have watched my mental and physical health gradually deteriorate. Don’t get me wrong, living in the UK is a privilege, but that does not negate the challenges of trying to assimilate into a new world.

The “Counter-Eating” Conundrum: My Body, My Battleground

Since I moved to the UK, I have gained 15kg. Yes.. 15kg! I can try and spin it, but the truth is that I am overweight. I find myself constantly eating because I am stressed, afraid and lonely. Working in finance in extremely stressful, and that stress has been made worse because I no longer have time for the activities that helped me reduce my stress levels. I am afraid because there is no safety net here. Its only me and my partner. If anything is to happen, there is no safety net. There is no community as everyone is so busy working and any free time is used to rest.

I am ashamed to say it, but I am disgusted when I look in the mirror. The desire to be kind to myself is there, but instead, I am filled with self-loathing. I feel ashamed that I allowed myself to get to this weight. And it is this shame and self-loathing that further pushes me into the vicious cycle of eating: I eat because I’m struggling, and I’m struggling because I am eating.

The disgust I feel is exacerbated by the fact that nothing fits me anymore. So not only am I fat, I also constantly look dishevelled and unkempt. This had really taken a toll on my self-esteem. And I know many would say I should just get new clothes, but have you tried shopping when your self-esteem is in the gutter?

All this has me on the verge of a mental breakdown, and I just want to go back home.

A Deep Ache for Home: The Namibia I Left Behind

There is a constant yearning to go home. Namibia is not perfect, but it made me feel whole. I long for the community I left behind. The days when friends would visit me simply because they were in the area. The weekends I would spend baking and the joy of sharing what I made with those I love. Then there were the random trips to the mall with my sister, or the school walks I always attended with my nephew. I long for the sense of belonging that comes with familiar faces and local languages. The UK is very individualistic, and creating a community is so hard; leaving me feeling lonely and depressed.

In Namibia, I could afford to take care of my appearance in ways that feel impossible here. I remember the days when I got my hair done twice a month and did my nails whenever my heart desired. I didn’t realise then, but these actions made me feel more feminine and confident. In the UK, I can hardly afford to do my hair on a monthly basis as the average hairstyle can cost you between £150 – £200. Nails aren’t even an option because quality doesn’t justify the cost. My inability to take care of my physical appearance started to take a toll on my mental well-being and I constantly find myself in a cycle of negative self-talk.

Unpacking the Mental Load: More Than Just Culture Shock

I miss home dearly, but I also know the weight of trying to assimilate into the UK society is taking its toll. There is a fear that comes with being an immigrant. In 2024, over 6 days, there were anti-immigration riots in various cities in the UK. People, especially people of colour, were being attacked solely based on where they were born. The anti-immigration sentiments are made worse but the constantly increasing cost of living.

In London, it is almost a given that rent takes over 50% of your salary, then there is water, gas, electricity and food. Most of my salary goes to pay for my basic needs, with every little left for anything else. I won’t even start with the horrid winters. The lack of community makes it harder to work through these obstacles without it chipping away at my mental health.

Glimmers of Hope & Steps Towards Reclaiming Myself

This blog post is not me complaining, but me articulating feelings so complex to navigate. I know that these feelings cannot be easily resolved. However, I am taking active steps to change this:

• Walking: I walk for at least 30 minutes a day. This allows me to move my body, while also having a chance to catch up with all my podcasts.
• Connection: I make a conscious effort to reach out to those I love, even if it means adding reminders to my calendar.
• Colouring: I picked up colouring again. I’m currently doing virtual colouring, but hope to go back to my pencils and books.

Right now, things feel so hard… But I know it will get better. Watching my husband find his passion gives me so much joy. And it makes me realise that great things can be found in the UK. As I write this, I am reminded to be kind to myself. Things may look different, but that does not mean I cannot find a version of myself that is healthy and happy in the country I now call home.

This is my messy, beautiful, ongoing story of becoming.