Why do I feel guilty for having emigrated?
Soraya Mohamedi Mohamed · Psychologist, specialist in Migration and Social Inclusion · Founder and chair of Ubuntu Canarias
A person holds their phone while looking at a family photograph. On the other side of the screen, a video call with those who stayed in the home country. Sometimes distance is measured in kilometres. Other times, in moments that will never come back.
There's a question many people ask themselves in silence
Emigrating is usually associated with the search for opportunities, safety or a better life. But there's a part of that experience that gets talked about far less: guilt.
Not guilt for having done something wrong. Rather the feeling of having left important people behind right when they might need you too. Sometimes it appears after a phone call. Other times, when news arrives that would have been different had you been there. And sometimes it settles in for no clear reason, like background noise that lingers for months.
Not every migrant feels it. And those who do don't feel it in the same way. But it's a more common feeling than it seems.
Life goes on in both places
While you try to adapt to a new city, find work or sort out paperwork, life carries on in the place you came from.
Birthdays are celebrated without you.
Children grow up.
Your friends change jobs, start a family, or move away.
Parents grow older.
All of that happens even if you talk to them every week.
There are moments when the distance weighs especially heavily, because it can't be solved with a call or a message.
Sometimes guilt isn't born from what you do, but from what you can't do
Many people say the hardest part wasn't leaving. It was discovering they could no longer be there when someone fell ill, needed help, or simply wanted to share an important moment.
From here, people try to make up for that absence in many ways.
Money is sent when possible.
Calls happen almost daily.
People try to sound reassuring, even when they don't feel it themselves.
Without realising it, some people end up living with the feeling that they're always in debt to those who stayed behind.
There's also guilt for being okay
This aspect tends to be surprising.
Some people manage to settle in, find work, or start feeling better in the host country, and it's precisely then that another form of guilt appears.
Enjoying an opportunity can feel uncomfortable when you know that people you love are still going through hard times.
It's as if part of you thinks you have no right to feel relief while others keep waiting.
It doesn't always happen, but when it does, it can cause a lot of confusion.
Social media changes how distance is experienced
Years ago it was normal to hear from family every so often. Today it's possible to see almost everything in real time.
A family meal.
A celebration.
An old photograph someone decides to share.
That can make distance feel different. Not because there's more separation than before, but because now we witness so many moments we can't be part of.
There isn't always a perfect decision
Migration is often framed as a simple choice: stay or leave.
However, reality tends to be far more complex.
Some people emigrate because they feel they have no other option. Others do it thinking of their children's future. Some leave planning to return soon and discover the years pass much faster than they imagined.
Looking back with the information we have today is often unfair. The decision was made with the circumstances of that moment, not those of now.
An example, to understand it better
Let's imagine, purely as a hypothetical example, a man who emigrated four years ago. His mother starts having health problems and he can't travel as often as he'd like.
Every time he speaks to her, he feels he should be there. At the same time, he knows going back would mean losing the job it took him so much effort to get.
There's no fully satisfying solution.
And that's exactly why guilt appears: because any decision means giving something up.
What can help?
There's no way to stop feeling guilty overnight.
Some people find it helps to understand that loving their family and building a life in another country aren't two incompatible things.
Others discover that talking openly about that feeling, instead of hiding it, lightens some of the weight they'd been carrying.
It can also help to remember that distance doesn't measure commitment or love. Some people are very present while living thousands of kilometres away, and others live nearby yet are barely part of their family's life.
Every migration story has its own nuances. Comparing it to someone else's rarely helps.
A closing thought
Over time I've learned that many migrants miss more than just a place. They also miss the chance to be where they feel they should have been at certain moments.
Perhaps that's why guilt appears so easily.
It doesn't always go away completely. But once it's named, it stops being a confusing feeling and starts to be understood as part of a deeply human experience.
And perhaps that understanding won't close the distance, but it can help you look at yourself with a little more kindness.
When guilt takes up too much space
Guilt doesn't usually disappear because someone tells us we shouldn't feel it. Sometimes it needs time. Other times, it needs us to stop trying to hide it or play it down.
Some people find it helps to talk about it with someone they trust, without feeling obliged to pretend everything is fine. Others find relief when they accept that they can't be present for every important moment in their family's life, and that this limitation doesn't lessen the love they feel for them.
It can also help to set aside space to look after the life being built here. Allowing yourself to enjoy good news, make new friends, or feel at peace in the host country doesn't mean forgetting the place you came from or the people who stayed there. Both things can coexist, even if it's hard to believe at first.
Every migration process is different, and there's no single correct way to live it. Some people need to talk a lot about what they left behind, while others prefer to do so little by little. What matters isn't following a specific path, but finding a way to move forward without letting guilt take up all the space.
If, over time, this feeling becomes constant, gets in the way of rest, affects relationships, or means every moment of wellbeing comes with remorse, seeking professional support can be an option. Not because feeling guilty is a problem in itself, but because no one has to face what's causing them pain alone.
— Soraya Mohamedi Mohamed · Psychologist, specialist in Migration and Social Inclusion
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