The Light and Shadow of Being Deeply Adaptable: How Adaptability Shaped My Expat Life and My Soul

I remember sitting in a boardroom during my corporate years, surrounded by people from different cultures, different personalities, and . . . very different agendas. Some voices were loud, others cautious. The energy was thick with unspoken tensions. And yet, somehow, I could feel into the dynamics of the room, sense who needed encouragement, who needed calming, who needed to be heard. Without thinking, I would adjust my words, my tone, my body language, to bring more ease and connection into the space.

Adaptability has always been my strength.

It’s what made me successful in those moments of corporate navigation, when the ability to read energy and respond accordingly could mean the difference between conflict and collaboration. And it’s what has carried me through more than 25 years of living abroad, moving between countries, cultures, languages, and ways of life.

Adaptability is like a superpower when you’re an expat. You learn to bend, to flow, to see the world through many different lenses. It has allowed me to thrive in places that at first felt foreign, to make a home wherever I landed, to form connections across cultures and continents.

But what I’ve also learned is that adaptability has a shadow side.

When you’re too adaptable, you can start to lose yourself. You shrink in order to fit the environment. You say yes when you want to say no. You settle into ‘less’ because you’re capable of adjusting, even when your soul is quietly longing for more. I’ve had seasons where I stayed in situations longer than I should have simply because I could adapt to them. I thought resilience meant strength, but in truth, it sometimes meant self-abandonment.

This is the paradox of adaptability. It can expand you, or it can diminish you.

Looking back on my life abroad, I see both sides clearly. Adaptability opened doors I could never have imagined. It gave me the courage to start over in unfamiliar places, to learn new languages, to embrace change with curiosity, instead of fear. It allowed me to meet people where they are, to hold space for their truth while honoring my own.

And yet, I also recognize the times when adaptability turned against me, when I bent so much that I nearly forgot my own shape.

Now, the question I ask myself is simple but powerful: Am I adapting in a way that helps me grow, or in a way that makes me smaller?

Because true adaptability isn’t about erasing yourself to survive. It’s about staying rooted in your own essence while flowing with the world around you.

So, I leave you with this reflection:

Where in your life is adaptability expanding you into more of who you are, and where might it be keeping you in spaces that no longer fit? 

After 25 years abroad, I know for sure that adaptability is a gift. But like any gift, it has to be used with wisdom. The key is not just to adapt, but to adapt in a way that honors your soul.