When I say I never expected to live in Amsterdam, I mean it. It felt like the kind of fantasy you pin to your vision board but never actually expect to come true. And yet, somehow, I landed a job that brought me here, to a tiny apartment perched on a canal, complete with church bells in the distance and the kind of soft light that makes you feel like you’re living in a movie. A very stylish, very Dutch movie.
The smallest differences become your biggest differences.
The apartment was tiny but perfect. A canal view, cozy vibes, and just enough space to teach me minimalism in its most romantic form. No space for clutter meant more time spent outdoors, walking, biking, getting lost in the maze of the city and in my own thoughts.
Living here was the first time I didn’t feel lonely abroad. Somehow, in all that rainy, direct, unapologetic Dutch-ness, I found home. Not in people, not at first, but in myself. Cliché? Yes. But also true.
The Break-In That Changed Everything
Let’s talk about something no one warns you about: apartment break-ins. One day, I came home and knew something was off. Subtle signs: objects out of place, drawers slightly ajar. A pit in my stomach confirmed it: someone had been there. Later, we realized it was likely tied to the building’s superintendent, someone with access to all the units. My passport, personal items, and sense of safety were gone. I stayed in that same apartment afterward, but it was never the same.
I learned to be vigilant. I watched my surroundings. I paid attention to routines, faces, and details. I started feeling like Jason Bourne, but with better coats and far more cheese in my fridge.
Dutch Life: Directness, Biking, and That Wet Bike Seat Struggle
Apartment hunting was easier than it had been in Germany. And biking? I thought I’d never get used to it but I did. Fast. In Amsterdam, your bike is your life. People ride in suits, stilettos, with kids strapped front and back. Rain, wind, snow, doesn’t matter. You bike.
Forget windshield frost guards, Dutch cyclists use plastic bags on their seats. Nothing worse than starting your day with a wet butt. Trust me.
And Dutch public transport? Incredibly efficient. But that bike? That’s where your freedom is.
The Language Barrier That Wasn’t
My workplace was 99% English-speaking expats, so learning Dutch wasn’t necessary, but I still tried. Dutch is not the softest of languages, but it’s fun in its own guttural way. I tried picking up bits through friends, neighbors, and street signs. I never became fluent, but I became conversational, and proud of it.
Making Friends in a No-New-Friends Culture
Dutch people are… blunt. As someone who grew up with European parents and lived in Germany, I wasn’t totally thrown but it’s still a shock. I once had someone politely tell me, “My social circle is full right now.” I didn’t even know that was an option.
But when Dutch people do let you in, it’s real. The friends I made there? Solid gold. The kind of people who’ll tell you exactly what they think and then show up with soup when you’re sick.
What Feels Normal There… and Wild Everywhere Else
Biking in a windstorm wearing business casual? Totally normal. Arriving to work soaked and changing in the bathroom? Standard. Buying tulips at a market, chatting in three languages, then drinking coffee outside in the rain because “it’s only light rain”? Very Dutch.
These things were my every day. Now, they feel like a fever dream.
Why I Left And Why I’d Go Back in a Heartbeat
Eventually, my work contract ended, and with it, my time in Amsterdam. I accepted a job in the UK and packed up my tiny flat with a heavy heart.
But the Netherlands changed me. I walked differently, talked differently, carried myself differently. I learned not to apologize for who I was, not to fear solitude, and not to wait for sunshine to live my life.
Would I go back? Absolutely. The bike’s already waiting for me.
Read More:
- Life as an Expat in Italy: What Lake Como Taught Me About Gelato, Siestas, and Patience
- What Italy Taught Me About Patience (and Plumbers) coming soon
- How I Learned Italian by Accident (and Out of Necessity) coming soon
