This isn’t normally the kind of thing we’d write about publicly, but it’s probably one of the questions we get asked most:

How do you actually make this lifestyle work financially?

When we first moved abroad together, we thought we had figured it out.

We had both worked remotely before while living in Mexico, and at the time, it felt incredible. We weren’t making huge amounts of money, but we had flexibility, freedom, and enough to live comfortably. More importantly, we had time.

Time to travel. Think. Create. And, daydream about eventually having kids.

We both knew we didn’t want the kind of life where both parents were constantly overwhelmed by work. We didn’t care about the house, the yard (though, that sounds kind of nice right now), great school districts, or making our way up the career ladder.

We wanted to live our life by our own rules.

So when we moved to Portugal with Mika, the plan seemed simple enough: Hana would keep freelancing remotely, like she had for years, while Max left his cushy teaching job in the States. He’d take care of Mika while figuring out his next step, and Hana would continue doing what she’d always done.

At first, we weren’t worried.

We had both worked online before and thought: “Okay, we know how to do this. And, Portugal is pretty affordable.”

Then almost immediately after arriving, Hana’s biggest client went through a merger and let her go in the middle of a contract.

Then another client dropped off.

Then another.

And suddenly, for the first time in eight years of freelancing, she only had one or two clients left.

At the same time, we were navigating a new country, apartment issues, paperwork, sleep deprivation, constant rain, and all the invisible chaos that comes with having a baby abroad without much support.

People love to say babies don’t need much, but babies require you — your mental, emotional, and physical attention. And, that means less attention to working and looking for new clients. (And, Portugal in general just demanded a lot of our attention and funds).

Thankfully, Portugal hadn’t bankrupted us. At least not yet. Our expenses were around $3,000 a month, so technically, we were still making ends meet.

But making ends meet and feeling secure are two very different things, especially once you have a kid.

And the harder part was that we were starting to resent our life in Portugal itself. We kept thinking: if we’re going to struggle financially, shouldn’t we at least feel happy about the freedom we’re getting in return?

From the outside, it probably looked like we were living the dream. The cafes. The beautiful streets. The baby in Portugal. The photos all looked right.

But privately, we were stressed most of the time.

Some months felt like we were one late client payment away from panic.

What made it even lonelier was that we didn’t fully relate to a lot of the families around us. Some people had passive income. Others had one very high salary. Some couples both worked full-time remote jobs. Others just seemed financially secure enough that the uncertainty didn’t hang over them the same way it did for us.

It often felt like no one really understood what we were going through.

And yet, despite all of it, we still kept choosing this life. Maybe not in Portugal specifically, but we knew we weren’t going back to the States.

Because even during the hardest periods, what we still had was time.

Max spent those two years in Portugal taking care of Mika, and since Hana had less clients, we had more time together. We built our days around being together. Around flexibility. Around trying to create a version of parenthood that didn’t feel like we were constantly rushing past our own lives.

That didn’t mean it was easier.

We knew there was a ticking clock. We couldn’t sustain this lifestyle in this way.

Then, the day — THE DAY — we finally decided to leave Portugal, Hana got a full-time remote job offer from someone she used to freelance for years before.

It felt like the universe had waited until we completely broke before throwing us a rope.

So we moved to Colombia, and once again, our dynamic stayed mostly the same. Hana carried the financial side while Max took care of Mika full-time, and later Sam when he was born. We were safe for now, but something felt off.

Technically, it’s been working. We have that balance. We live abroad. Everything has been great.

We know families here in Colombia that both parents work full-time. They’re constantly stressed, don’t have much time for their kids, and we would think, “What’s the point then of living abroad?”

Yet, we couldn’t deny the jealousy we felt that their financial situation was so much better than ours AND they still aren’t in the U.S.

But, Hana was still carrying the pressure of maintaining that stability.

Until now.

After years of hard work, Max got a full-time job offer.

And, for the first time ever, we’ll both be earning full-time salaries while living abroad.

Not freelancing unpredictably.

Not trying to patch things together month by month.

Not one person carrying the financial pressure while the other carries most of the childcare.

We’re incredibly grateful.

We’ve already caught ourselves daydreaming about small things.

Paying down the last credit card faster.

Finally creating some financial movement here in Colombia.

Taking the extra exercise class.

Saying yes to the beach trip without calculating everything first.

Maybe even buying a car while we actually have the income to do it.

Not because we suddenly want some huge lifestyle upgrade.

I think we just want to feel a little less fragile.

But, then why do we feel so nervous about this change?

Because even though we’ll now be entering a season where we may finally have more financial breathing room, we genuinely don’t know yet what it will cost us in energy, presence, calm, or our connection as a family.

The dynamic is surely going to change.

And, we’d be idiots not to take advantage of this opportunity to be dual-income-WITH-kids.

But, if eventually it’s not working for us, this lifestyle gives us the ability to make a change without it completely derailing us.

Can’t lie, though. We’re excited to be one of “those” families for a change.

Sometimes it feels like everyone living abroad is either secretly thriving or secretly panicking financially, and nobody fully admits which one they are.

So now we’re curious:

What does your setup actually look like?

One income? Two?

Freelancing? Full-time remote jobs?

One parent carrying most of the childcare?

Have you ever had a period where things genuinely felt financially unstable while living abroad?

What did you do?

We have a feeling more families are navigating this than people realize.