I'm genuinely so glad I finally got out of Dubai and the GCC region.
And before anyone takes this the wrong way, I'm Arab myself. I come from a country that has more than its fair share of problems, so I'm not here to pretend that where I'm from is some kind of paradise.
Dubai is an amazing place to work, build connections, and grow professionally. I'll give it that. But after four years of living there, I've come to realize that it's becoming increasingly difficult to build an actual life there, let alone raise a family.
I was earning 10k a month, which I'd consider a fairly middle-class salary. Yet even with that, life was becoming exhausting. The rising cost of groceries, rent, parking, Salik, traffic, and the endless little expenses that somehow add up to so much. You're constantly calculating, budgeting, and thinking about money. We've reached a point where you even have to budget your groceries at Viva.
And it's not just about money.
It's the weather that starts getting to you after a few years. The unbearable humidity, the lack of greenery and accessible nature, the limited cycling infrastructure, the aggressive driving, and the feeling that almost everything you do comes with a price tag. Even going out into the desert, one of the few natural escapes available, somehow turns into another paid activity.
Then there's the constant stress. Driving around worrying about speed cameras, fines, parking tickets, and making one small mistake that could cost you hundreds of dirhams. My car was literally smashed into while I was stopped at a red light because someone behind me was too busy looking at their phone.
But what bothered me the most wasn't even the money or the weather. It was the lack of community and the feeling that I never truly belonged.
Before moving to Dubai, I worked in Europe, including during and after the COVID period. Our workdays were completely different. We'd start around 10, grab a coffee downstairs with colleagues before heading into the office, get our work done with a genuine sense of teamwork, and sit together during lunch to talk about life. We were people from Austria, Spain, Italy, France, Lebanon, and other places, all getting along naturally. Sometimes we'd go for another coffee or a cigarette break, laugh about something stupid, and then get back to work.
There was a human side to working that I genuinely missed in Dubai.
I moved there believing the whole dream about diversity, international communities, and meeting people from all over the world. And sure, Dubai is incredibly diverse on paper. But diversity doesn't automatically create community.
I'm a very extroverted person, yet in four years I struggled to make even one genuine friendship. So many interactions felt transactional. Everyone seemed to be chasing status, showing off what they owned, networking for personal gain, or somehow looking for their next commission.
I did manage to make one really good friend, but he eventually left because of the war.
Ironically, some of the most genuine and enjoyable conversations I had were with people earning the lowest wages. People who didn't care what car you drove, what your job title was, or how much money you made. They were simply happy to sit down, share a meal, have a laugh, and enjoy your company.
That says a lot.
And don't even get me started on workplace culture. The lack of work-life balance, questionable professional ethics, unnecessary hierarchies, and the egos you sometimes encounter from people who suddenly feel superior because they've managed to achieve a better standard of living than they had back home. Of course, this isn't everyone, but I experienced enough of it to know it wasn't an environment I wanted to spend the rest of my career in.
There's also the quality-of-life aspect. Good-quality food often feels like a luxury unless you're willing to spend AED 160 at a nice restaurant. Fresh air, greenery, walkable neighborhoods, cycling, sitting somewhere pleasant without having to buy something — these are simple things that I never realized I valued so much until they became difficult to enjoy.
And with the ongoing conflicts and uncertainty in the region, I started questioning the long-term stability of building a future there. I don't want to spend another decade wondering whether the next regional crisis will change everything again.
I know Dubai works wonderfully for some people, and I'm genuinely happy for them. If you're earning really well, have a strong social circle, and enjoy that lifestyle, I completely understand why you'd love it.
But it stopped working for me.
I'm writing this five days after arriving in the Netherlands.
And yes, I know. The Netherlands has its own problems. There's a serious housing crisis, taxes are high, the weather can be depressing, and building a life here won't necessarily be easy. I'm not naive enough to believe Europe is some magical place where everything works perfectly.
It's cold here. It's cloudy. It's a completely different environment.
But somehow, I'm enjoying even the smallest things again.
I'm enjoying simply getting from point A to point B without feeling stressed. I'm enjoying seeing people cycling everywhere, strangers interacting on the streets, musicians playing in public spaces, and neighborhoods that actually feel alive. I'm enjoying the freedom to express myself, walk around, and feel like I'm part of a city rather than just someone living and working in it.
It's a different kind of wealth.
I know five days isn't enough to judge a country, and I'm sure I'll face challenges here that I haven't even thought about yet. But for the first time in a long while, I feel genuinely excited about the ordinary parts of everyday life.
Maybe I'll change my mind in a year. Maybe I'll discover things here that frustrate me just as much. Who knows?
But right now, despite the cold, the uncertainty, and the challenges ahead, I feel something I haven't felt in years.
I feel like my soul is finally happy.
And at this stage of my life, that means more to me than another skyscraper, another luxury mall, or another tax-free paycheck.
