The hidden loneliness of living in paradise

I moved to paradise but I wasn’t living the dream.

With social media influencing decision making, even subconsciously, you’re being encouraged to live the perfect life. Jetting across the world, experiencing all that life and meeting a tonne of new people, that’s what it’s all about, right? What the world fails to tell you is that if you’re on your own or in a couple, the monotony of loneliness soon catches up, giving you a huge dose of raw reality. Being amongst a transient crowd, not knowing how long your neighbour is going to be your neighbour, or how often you’re going to see that person you struck up a conversation with before disappearing, is pretty draining. It’s the constant churn of repeatedly having the same small-talk conversations that can make ‘living the dream’ become a mundane hole. I personally found it difficult to get out of this hole. This is the side of going abroad that seems to get overlooked, it’s not pretty nor is being lonely something you want to shout about. The shame of making the leap and thinking should I go home because I’m not winning at life like I assumed I would be. That to me, felt like too much of a failure and I wasn’t about to let that be my ending.

When I first came to the DR, I headed back to Las Terrenas as it was the town I knew from my days of travelling. I had a small apartment on the sea front which was ideal. I had a garden view full of palm trees and peeking through them I could see the ocean. Once my mind and body had started to settle after the first couple of weeks, the reality of the fact is that apart from the beach there really isn’t a great deal to do in Las Terrenas. Yes, the beaches were beautiful but there’s only so many times you can walk them before you start to feel like it’s groundhog day. I did know a couple of people in the town, but seeing them was only on a ‘now and again’ basis, and these were of a similar age to my parents. I found it increasingly difficult to make any friends at all around my own age, but given that the local expat community was made up of French and Italian retirees I had no chance. Feeling stuck, I paid a visit one weekend to Punta Cana. Immediately upon seeing the place I thought this was more like it. Things that hit me straight away were seeing things like KFC, Burger King and a Cinema. I thought this was exactly what I needed, some of the civilization I was used to. Being in Las Terrenas made these modern comforts feel like a novelty. What I saw that weekend in Punta Cana was enough to make my mind up and the following week I left a beautiful but lonely Las Terrenas.

Punta Cana is very much an Americanised place, with English being the dominant language in the area. For those first few months I was bouncing around between apartments, never really feeling settled. I was still experiencing the same problems as I had in Las Terrenas, only this time everyone around me was either in couples, families or a group. As a person in my position, where do you even begin? I remember feeling quite sorry for myself, feeling like a lost sheep. I was surrounded by hundreds of people but I had never felt so alone, almost like I was invisible.

One day after coming to the end of one of my beach walks, I caught the eye of a few tourist looking times and got chatting. I remember sitting there for at least two hours as I had finally managed to find some people just like me. I remember going home that evening on a high because I’d finally found someone to converse with and find out a bit more about the local area. I would, on occasion bump into them again so I always made sure to look out for them on my beach walks. By this point I had met my first real friend - Becky - who I speak about in another blog post, but I still hadn’t got into a group of people. That changed when after coming to an end of another beach walk one day, I messaged one of the people I’d met previously to check if they were on the beach. They were, so I went and joined them and before I knew it I was sat amongst a group made up of Germans, Hungarians, Americans and Dominicans, and they all lived here. After initially heading home and debating if I should even go back and meet them, it turned out to change the course of life for me in Punta Cana. Not everyone from the group I saw very often after that, but there were a couple which helped me settle into life and made everything feel a bit more normal. Suddenly there were people I knew, and they were all within a few years of my age. Granted, there aren’t many of us within the same age bracket living here, so we all gravitated towards each other.

At the time, it was a long and arduous road, not knowing if I’d even stay in Punta Cana because I found it difficult to integrate into a community which I didn’t know existed. Now, I can say I’m in the perfect position to help other people who may be going through this exact same scenario. Through Punta Cana Project, I have spoken to so many people who had been living here for months and struggling to meet anyone or even having the chance to socialise. Others have told me they’ve been coming down to Punta Cana for years, with the only people they know being the restaurant staff because they literally didn’t know anyone else. The social events I organise are designed to give people something enjoyable to look forward to and most importantly the ability to meet new people. I have seen so many friendships being born off the back of coming to one of my events - I love to see it! I have endured the hard times as they have, so to see those in a similar position laughing and having a good time gives me an enormous sense of pride.

All the lonely nights were worth it after all, because now I’m in a place to help others.