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Welcome to HearthFinder: A Home Beyond Borders

Sep 12
3 min read


For more than a decade, I dreamed of living in Europe. I imagined old cities, village life, traditions shaped over generations, and the possibility of building a life that felt a little more intentional. When we finally moved to Romania, it wasn’t an impulsive escape or a sudden reinvention. It was something I had been moving toward for a very long time.



What I couldn’t fully imagine was everything that would come after the move itself. The past year has involved immigration offices and paperwork, housing struggles, business plans that worked and others that very much did not, cultural misunderstandings, unexpected friendships, homesickness, financial uncertainty, and a great deal of learning as we went. It has also brought us into a community I never could have planned for, introduced me to traditions I now look forward to, and given me those strange little moments when I realize that something which once felt completely foreign has quietly become part of my ordinary life.



Somewhere in the middle of all of this, my understanding of relocation changed. We tend to talk about moving abroad as though the move itself is the accomplishment: choose a country, figure out the visa, pack your belongings, board the plane, and begin your new life. In reality, arrival is only the beginning. There is an enormous difference between living somewhere and actually creating a life there.



That is where HearthFinder begins.




More Than Moving Abroad



There will certainly be practical information here. I’ve learned an enormous amount about residency, bureaucracy, housing, business, cost of living, and cultural adaptation, often because I had no choice but to figure it out myself. There is a particular gap between knowing what a government website says you need to do and understanding what actually happens when you walk into the office, and I hope sharing those experiences can make someone else’s path a little less bewildering.



But the practical side of relocation is only part of what interests me. Once the paperwork is filed and the boxes are unpacked, you still have to learn how to live somewhere. You have to make friends as an adult, develop new routines, navigate cultural differences, and make peace with being an outsider for a while. You can love the place you’ve chosen and still miss the one you left. Over time, you may even discover that home has become more complicated because you now belong, in different ways, to more than one place.



I’m also a historian, which inevitably shapes the way I experience living somewhere new. I want to understand the places around me rather than simply use them as the backdrop to my own story. Romania, and Transylvania in particular, is layered with communities that have been building, leaving, returning, adapting, and defining home for centuries. Their histories, traditions, folklore, food, festivals, and ordinary ways of life have become part of what I want to explore here. If we choose to make our homes somewhere new, I think we should be curious about what was here before we arrived and thoughtful about how we become part of it.




Finding the Hearth



I’ve always been drawn to the symbolism of the hearth. Historically, it was the practical center of domestic life: the place where people cooked, warmed themselves, gathered, worked, talked, and cared for one another. Over time, it came to represent something larger—the warmth, stability, connection, and belonging we associate with home.



The longer I’ve lived abroad, the more appropriate that metaphor has felt. Home isn’t something you automatically acquire with an address or a residence permit, and I don’t think it is necessarily something you find waiting for you in the perfect city or country. We build it through relationships and routines, shared meals and familiar places, the traditions we carry with us and those we slowly make room for.



Often, that happens so gradually that we barely notice it. A confusing road becomes familiar. Someone begins expecting you at the table. You recognize faces around town or understand a joke you would once have missed. A holiday that belonged to someone else’s culture becomes something you look forward to celebrating with them. None of those moments is particularly dramatic, but together they begin to create the feeling that you are no longer simply staying somewhere.



HearthFinder is about that process. It’s for people dreaming of moving abroad, those already trying to find their footing somewhere new, and anyone interested in the complicated question of what makes a place become home. Some of what I share will be useful and practical; some will be history, culture, or stories from the life we’re building here. I expect some of it will simply be me continuing to work through what home means now that I’ve had to think about it in an entirely new way.



I don’t have that answer neatly wrapped up yet.



I’m not sure I ever want to.


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