Suzanne: „Home isn’t something you find — it’s something you build."

The Foreigner Strategy

Some people simply aren’t born in the right place. They may not realize it until they stop fighting to fit in. But when they decide to leave, a world of opportunities can open up — and with it, the freedom to express themselves more fully.

I am a migrant by choice. My journey toward strength began at 34 with an autism diagnosis, which helped me understand how differently people think and communicate, and taught me to separate my own motivations from the expectations of society. As the Covid era ended, I found myself exhausted with life in the Netherlands — always working hard, yet never feeling successful or at home. After years of survival, I had the courage to let go and try something new. It was the best decision I have ever made.

With a background in Slavic studies, I looked east for a new start and, almost by accident, ended up with a job in Prague — where life somehow began to make sense. I learned that in the autistic community this is called the foreigner strategy: at home you’re expected to conform and failure stings; abroad, the difference is simply foreign — a bit unusual perhaps, but also intriguing. Instead of the pain of not belonging, I found the joy of being seen.

Serendipity and the Freedom to Let Things Happen

Five months after I arrived in Prague, Russia invaded Ukraine. As someone who had studied the history of the region, I felt it deeply — and I sensed that Czechs did too. I offered my spare room to a young Ukrainian student, Oleksandra. The weeks she stayed with me were among the most meaningful of my life. Providing safety and seeing her recover was profoundly moving.

At the same time, my corporate job left me uninspired. I quit after a year, determined to stay in Czechia but to live on my own terms. I wanted to explore, to learn, to connect — and I needed the freedom to do that. So I went freelance and took a semi-sabbatical to follow some of my interests: cycling and civic politics.

That’s when serendipity began to shape my life. Without a clear plan, I kept meeting people who inspired me to act from my values and curiosity. Many encounters started with volunteering — small acts of engagement — and gradually, they opened into meaningful work and community.

Cycling became my first bridge into local life. I began volunteering at Bike Kitchen Praha, where we repair bikes and share stories. BKP connected me to my most Czech circle of friends and gave me a first sense of belonging. I also met the director at Rekola, the pink bike-sharing company, where I now work in business development and public tender management. This role combines things I am good at and things that I’m interested in: cycling, public services, and project management — in both Czechia and abroad. As one of the few foreigners in the company my outside perspective is genuinely valued.

Volunteering also led me into civic work: I organized a political discussion group and found work with MigAct, an organization that supports people with migration backgrounds to become more civically active, and helps local institutions become more inclusive. And this year I co-founded the volunteer association Volby pro všechny, to help migrants understand and participate in Czech politics. Through these projects, I contribute to making Czech society more inclusive — and, in the process, I deepen my own sense of belonging.

Language, Belonging, and Looking Ahead

Learning Czech is the foundation for growing my belonging. Consistency is key: I practice vocabulary at least ten minutes every day. Being able to communicate brings me safety — vital to me both as an autistic person and a foreigner. Each conversation and every successful visit to a shop, a doctor, or a government office ties me closer to life here. Together my work, my volunteer efforts, and speaking the language make me a small co-owner of Czech society, sharing in its responsibilities as well as its joys.

Looking ahead, I’ve learned that life and belonging have no finish line and take many forms. Flexibility, openness and a readiness to act and build human connections will help me navigate whatever comes next. Will I stay in Czechia forever? Perhaps — developing shared ownership makes that more likely. I’m grateful that I have been able to shape a life here in Czechia where I can use my personality, skills, and autism in a positive way. Step by step, conversation by conversation, I’m learning that home isn’t something you find — it’s something you build.

This article was created within the project Voices for Change: Empowering Migrant and Refugee Women in Czech Society, funded by the Lutheran World Federation Prague (LWF).

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