I'm Leaving Portugal and I Don't Know Where I'm Going

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In less than a month, I have to leave Portugal. Not because something went wrong. Not because I ran out of options. Because staying means becoming a resident, and I’m not ready to commit to a country I’m not sure about yet.

I’ve been here almost six months. Long enough to build routines, find a gym, discover places I like, accumulate things that don’t fit in a bag. Short enough to know this isn’t where I want to plant roots.

A Great Place to Live, Not to Grow

Portugal is beautiful. The food is great. People are warm. Life moves at a pace that lets you breathe. If I were looking for a place to rest, this would be it.

But I’m not looking for rest. I left Venezuela to build something, and a relaxed city where most young people I meet are planning their own exit doesn’t feel like the place to do it.

It’s an awesome country. Tranquil, safe, with some of the best food I’ve ever had. I could see my parents retiring here someday. But for someone trying to build products, find a community of builders, and feel the energy of people creating things, it doesn’t click (innovation here is led by crypto gurus and MLM experts). Portugal is a magnificent country to live. Not to grow.

I don’t feel innovation vibes here. And that matters when your days are split between a full-time job and side projects that need every bit of momentum you can get.

Why I Left Venezuela

I left Venezuela because of the political tension. That was the trigger. But once you’re outside and you see the blackouts, the water cuts, the prices, you realize going back isn’t really an option. At least not right now.

The thing is, when you leave your country and you can’t go back, every place you move to carries an extra weight. You’re not just picking a city. You’re picking the closest thing you have to a home. And that’s a lot of pressure to put on a decision you’re making with incomplete information.

This is only my second country. The first time I left because I had to. This time I’m choosing to leave. That’s a completely different kind of decision. There’s no urgency pushing me out, just the quiet realization that staying somewhere out of comfort isn’t the same as choosing it.

The Options (None of Them Feel Right)

I’ve been looking at two directions.

Northern Spain is the practical choice. I can get there by train or bus, which matters when you own more than what fits in a suitcase. Almost everyone I talk to says it’s a wonderful place. But deep down I suspect it has the same problem as Portugal: comfortable, not challenging.

Czech Republic is the aspirational option. Prague has the energy of a city that’s building things. But everyone who’s been there says the same thing: amazing to visit, boring to live.

So the honest answer is: none of my options feel like “the answer.”

Not Knowing Is Not Being Lost

I don’t know where I belong. And I’m starting to think that’s not a problem to solve but a reality to accept, at least for now.

When I left Venezuela, I had a clear reason: things were bad, I had to go. This time is different. Nobody is pushing me out. I’m choosing to leave a place that’s good enough because I want something that’s better. And “better” is hard to define when you don’t have a reference point for what home feels like anymore.

Every time you move, you start over. New gym, new streets, new grocery store, new faces. You get good at it. But you also accumulate a quiet exhaustion from rebuilding the basics over and over. You get so many things in a place that are difficult to put in a bag: the coffee shop where they already know your order, the running route you figured out, the people you started to know.

And then you leave, and you do it all again.

What’s Next

I don’t have an ending for this post because the story doesn’t have one yet. By the time you read this, I might be packing boxes or still staring at Google Maps.

What I do know is that staying somewhere out of comfort is worse than leaving without a plan. I’ve done harder things. I left my country with less certainty than I have now.

If you’re in a similar situation, trying to figure out where you fit, I don’t have advice. Just the reminder that not knowing is not the same as being lost. Sometimes you’re just in between.