The "Expat Bubble" is a social and cultural phenomenon in which expatriates living abroad tend to spend most of their time exclusively with other expats rather than engaging with the local community.
I've been thinking about expat bubbles lately - those protective circles we create when everything else feels unfamiliar. My own bubble story started unusually. When I first moved to Shenzhen in September 2022, COVID restrictions meant I barely had a bubble at all. Daily testing, limited socialising, just our family unit and a few parents from my son's school.
It wasn't until we moved to Guangzhou six months later that I truly experienced bubble life - connecting with other Singaporeans and Malaysians, finding friends in the same apartment block. For those first couple of months, it felt like finding solid ground after floating. When I was pregnant and craving specific foods from home, someone in the bubble would have it. When I needed last-minute childcare, there was always someone to call. After giving birth, a friend cooked 猪脚黑醋 (pig's trotter in black vinegar) exactly the way it's done back home - that kind of comfort you can't put a price on.
But bubbles are complex things, aren't they? Mine became limiting when I gravitated only to that same group, making minimal effort to connect with parents from my son's new school or venture beyond what felt safe.
Three Women Got Me Thinking Differently
Recently, I asked three women about their own bubble experiences, and their insights have been sitting with me in powerful ways.
Supritha, building her startup's presence in Jakarta, described a moment that gave me goosebumps: "Even stumbling through 'Selamat pagi' and 'Terima kasih' gets this visible reaction from clients. You can see them soften a bit. It's not about fluency, it's about effort."
I felt this so deeply. When I attempted my extremely basic Cantonese with the housekeepers at my Guangzhou apartment, I could almost see their shoulders relaxing. It wasn't about getting the tones right - it was about showing up and giving it a try.
Siok Hwee, who moved from Australia to Los Angeles while eight months pregnant, reminded me how safety shapes our choices: "Being a minority does shape the experience - it influences the networks we can access, the opportunities available." Her words illuminate something we don't always acknowledge - that our bubbles form partly from necessity, not just preference.
Janette, reflecting on her 15-year journey from Malaysia to Australia, offered this wisdom: "I've grown comfortable accepting that I'm a hybrid of both Asian and Western societies. I don't have to choose one over the other because that's how I was brought up. And honestly, embracing that hybrid identity has brought me many benefits."
Her insight challenges the either/or thinking that often surrounds bubble discussions. Perhaps the question isn't whether to stay in or break out of our bubbles, but how to move fluidly between different spaces as needed.
What I'm Sitting With
Before moving abroad, I used to think expats isolated themselves because they felt superior to local communities. Becoming one myself showed me the opposite - how often our bubbles form from fear of rejection, from needing somewhere safe to land while we figure everything else out.
These conversations have me wondering: What if our bubbles aren't failures of integration, but necessary base camps? Places to return to for comfort and understanding while we build the confidence to venture further out?
Supritha's insight about effort particularly resonates. The magic isn't in perfect cultural fluency - it's in the willingness to try, to be vulnerable, to show up imperfectly but authentically.
Questions That Keep Me Curious
When does the comfort of our bubble become a limitation, and how do we know?
What would change if we saw expat communities as launching pads rather than end destinations?
How do we honour our need for cultural comfort while staying open to growth?
What small acts of effort - like stumbling through local greetings - create unexpected bridges?
I'm learning that maybe the goal isn't to eliminate our bubbles entirely, but to make them more permeable. To use them as the secure base from which we can explore, knowing we have somewhere safe to return to when the world feels overwhelming.
What does your expat bubble look like? And more importantly - how has it served you, and how might it be ready to evolve?
This is part of Woven's monthly exploration of The Expat Bubble throughout July. Next week, we'll feature our regular spotlight and resource guide. Later this month, we'll dive deeper into the hidden stakes and uncomfortable truths that make bubble navigation so complex, followed by practical strategies for finding your own path through these dynamics.