Interview with Daniela Cruz

This interview shares the personal story of an expat who came to the Netherlands with her (ex)husband, and was not directly supported by All About Expats. They may have been able to use some of our services, such as the Orientation Year (Zoekjaar), Relocation Service, the 30% ruling, or Employment & Career Tools (ECT). This article is intended for informational purposes only and does not replace personal advice. For more information about our services, please feel free to contact us.

When Daniela decided to move from Colombia to the Netherlands around 2016, it was not an impulsive decision. It was the result of love, courage, and a big leap into the unknown. “I was 26, working in marketing in Colombia, and actually doing quite well,” she says. “I was very focused on my career, so leaving everything behind and moving to the Netherlands felt like a huge sacrifice.”

Daniela and her partner were in a long-distance relationship for several years. “We met while on vacation, and it turned out he lived in the Netherlands. In the meantime, I had visited him there a few times before I emigrated myself.” Still, she wanted to be sure that living together would really work. “I first asked him to come to Colombia,” she laughs. “I thought: let’s live together first and see if you’re not a psycho.”

After about six months of living together in Colombia, she knew for sure. “That’s when I thought: okay, this feels right.” The decision came faster than expected. “Normally, a visa process takes quite a long time, but I got an answer within six months. That was a bit shocking, because suddenly it was real.” She chose not to take a long farewell period from her home country. “I bought a ticket for one month later. One month to wrap everything up, stop working with my clients, and say goodbye to family and friends.”

With many suitcases, and at least as much confidence, Daniela left for the Netherlands. “I really thought: I’m entrepreneurial, I’ll manage.” Only later did she realize how impactful emigrating is. “I truly underestimated it. Maybe that was a good thing, because otherwise I would have been more afraid. I was in love, excited, new country, new life. I thought: the worst that can happen is that I go back.”

What also helped Daniela was that she moved to the Netherlands during a lively period. “My partner advised me to immigrate to the Netherlands at the beginning of summer, because of all the light and the sense of gezelligheid.” She is still grateful for that advice, as she tends to suffer from a winter dip. “In the Dutch winter there is really much less light, and the weather changes. I try to go to Colombia during that time to visit my family.”

When asked if she was afraid before moving, Daniela laughs. She didn’t have any major existential fears, just something very practical: cycling in Amsterdam. She could do it, but not very well. Yet she got on the bike, day after day, in rain, wind, and heavy traffic, until it became natural. “By just keeping at it, the fear disappeared.” Later, she realized another lesson: you can also make things easier for yourself. Sometimes taking the tram is perfectly fine. This approach typifies her attitude toward change: practice, get used to it, adjust. Not everything has to be perfect from the start. She doesn’t miss having a car at all. On the contrary, life without one feels like a luxury, the freedom of a compact, well-organized city where you can reach everything by bike. “That’s really one of the beautiful things here.”

What immediately struck her upon arrival? “Children playing outside on their own. In Colombia, there are always adults around. Here, kids are so independent.” Older people also inspire her. “You see elderly people cycling, going to festivals, just continuing with life.”

She also notices differences in how people interact. “In the Netherlands, you think about your neighbors. Having a party? You turn the music down. In Colombia, you turn it up, or invite the neighbors.” She laughs. “It’s a different mentality. Nobody is better or worse, it’s just different.”

For Daniela, living internationally means existing in an in-between space. “Someone once said: a foreigner becomes a stranger twice, once to your new culture, and once to your own.” That can sometimes feel lonely. “You never fully belong anywhere. You have to create your own sense of home.”

At the same time, she sees it as an advantage. “When I go to Colombia, another part of me comes forward. I let go of my Dutch punctuality and go with the flow again.” And conversely: “When I return to the Netherlands and land at Schiphol, it really feels like coming home, and I enjoy being on time. That feeling only came after three or four years.”

Upon arrival, Daniela had to find an apartment, which proved more difficult than expected. “I had a temporary residence permit, and many landlords didn’t want to put me on the lease because of that.” Eventually, she managed with the help of her partner, who already had a permanent job. They lived together in Amsterdam-Oost.

Later, her situation changed. “When that relationship ended, the real expat life began.” Over the course of two years, she moved four times. “First with friends, then a temporary rental, and eventually I was able to find something permanent, thankfully.” She now lives with her current partner, again in Amsterdam-Oost. “Now it’s stable.”

Daniela still visits her family in Colombia at least once a year. “I eat all the food I’ve been missing, see my friends and recharge.” Especially in the winter, she sometimes feels homesick. “Then I miss the light, dancing and warmth. A Latin party can help.” Her family and friends have also come to visit her. “They know how I live here.” She keeps in touch mainly through WhatsApp and phone calls. “It’s less intense than before, but that’s life.” After nine years in the Netherlands, Daniela feels rooted, but not tied down. “I have multiple homes. Sometimes that feels confusing, but most of the time it feels like richness.”

Professionally, the first few years were the hardest. “It was terrible,” she admits honestly. “I was in the middle of an identity crisis. I knew I didn’t really want to do marketing anymore, but I also didn’t know what I did want to do.”

Applying for jobs was almost impossible. “My experience from Colombia wasn’t well understood. Companies in the Netherlands didn’t grasp what I had done for Colombian businesses, because it wasn’t in their language. That’s something for internationals to think about, how you present your CV and previous work. I got a few interviews, and when I did, I didn’t feel any enthusiasm.” That was confronting. Eventually, she discovered UX design. “It combines psychology and design. That suited me.”

She completed an intensive six-month online course. “And after that, I got my first UX job in the Netherlands. From that moment, everything became easier.” She emphasizes how crucial that first job is. “Once you have that, the rest follows naturally.”

Daniela also had to learn how applications work in the Netherlands. “Here, you have to be concrete. To the point. We Latin Americans like to talk a lot.” She learned to tell her story differently. Looking back, she sees her journey as a process of adaptation. “At first, you want the culture to adapt to you. But eventually, you learn: I have to adapt to the culture.”

For Daniela, finding work was not just a professional challenge, but a personal one as well. “I went from being completely financially independent in Colombia to being dependent on my partner,” she explains. “He was very kind and supportive, but for me, it was difficult.”

This dependence touched on something deeper. “I felt pressure. Maybe also because of my own feminist views I didn’t want to be ‘just the partner.’ I wanted my own life, my own friends, my own path. And that just wasn’t happening.” According to Daniela, gender roles play a bigger part in emigration than is often acknowledged. “Moving to another country isn’t just about paperwork or language, it’s also about identity, autonomy, and the division of roles.” Ultimately, after a year, Daniela found a job that made her happy.

In her professional experience, Daniela notices clear differences between Colombia and the Netherlands. “The Netherlands is a much flatter society. Less hierarchy.” She feels taken seriously as a woman. “Fortunately, I’ve experienced little discrimination.” Still, like in Colombia, she often works in male-dominated teams. “In tech, you’re often the only woman on the team. I was used to that.” For her, the biggest difference is the work culture. “In Colombia, working hard is seen as working long hours, evenings, weekends, always being available.”

In the Netherlands, it’s different. “If you consistently work late here, people think something is wrong. Are you overloaded? Or inefficient?” She laughs. “That took some getting used to.” She compares Colombian work culture more to that of the U.S.: competitive, performance-driven, always ‘on.’ Hard work versus efficient work. According to Daniela, people in the Netherlands don’t work less hard, they just work differently. “People are focused. They work, take a short lunch break, and keep going.”

In Colombia, work is more socially integrated. “A coffee, some chatting, back to work. That makes the workday feel longer, but people also put in extremely long hours because of the social aspect.” Initially, she found the Dutch approach cold. “I thought: everyone is so robotic.” Now she sees its value. “You do your work, and then you still have a life.” Feedback in the Netherlands is clear and unfiltered, which works well for her. In Colombia, communication is often more cautious; ‘no’ is rarely said directly. In the Netherlands, you quickly know where you stand, and that gives peace of mind.

After her first UX job at a start-up, Fashion Trade, a project by Zalando and Bestseller, Daniela thrived. “I was so excited. I learned so much.” But the company closed after a year. She then worked for nearly three years at EVBox, progressing from junior to senior UX designer.

The pandemic became a turning point. “I wanted some distance. I quit my job and traveled for eight months.” During that period, an old dream resurfaced. “In my first years in the Netherlands, I had started therapy myself. That helped me enormously.”

During one session, her therapist said something that stuck: “Take yourself seriously.” “I had always said I wanted to become a psychologist, but I hadn’t done anything about it.” During her travels, that realization came back. “I enjoyed UX, but it didn’t give me complete meaning. I wanted to make more of an impact.”

Back in the Netherlands, Daniela returned to UX, working for companies like Polaroid and Alfen, and is now active at Techleap. At the same time, she began a flexible training program to become a therapist. “It’s not a traditional bachelor’s degree, but spread over several years. That makes it possible to combine with work.”

She is now in her third year. “I work as a freelancer, see clients as a trainee therapist, and have yet another project.” That project? Colombian coffee. “My father grows coffee in Colombia. Really good coffee. We’re now working to bring it to the Netherlands as a brand.”

Daniela doesn’t see her different roles as fragmented, but as balanced. “Therapy and UX are different, but also similar. Both are about understanding people.” She believes that many burnouts stem from a lack of meaning. “We’re increasingly searching for purpose.” For her, the combination works. “Therapy full-time would be too intense. UX alone felt too empty. Together, they complement each other.” She says it makes her better in both roles.

Many of Daniela’s clients are internationals. “People struggling with adjustment, identity, career.” That feels like a full circle for her. “I’ve been there myself.” She closes with a broader perspective. “We’re all changing. Careers, lives, especially now with AI and everything disappearing and reemerging.” According to Daniela, learning to cope with change is the key skill of our time. “And if I can help people with that, it feels very right.”

Ideally, she says, your thoughts, feelings, and actions align. But that’s not a fixed state, it’s something you continually move toward. Almost no one wakes up every morning feeling that everything is in order, and certainly not always in the same job or life phase. What she considers essential is learning to navigate change rather than fighting it. She sees therapy not as something only for “big problems,” but as support for daily life, someone walking alongside you while you take the steps yourself.

At the same time, she is honest about her own motivations. UX gave her satisfaction for years, but in the technical environments where she worked, she sometimes felt something was missing: less thinking in systems, more in people. That need ultimately led her toward therapy. Now, she experiences the strength of the combination: technical precision and human depth. “Everything is about relationships,” she says. “Between people, but also between people and systems.”

Alongside her work as a UX designer, Daniela is currently active as a trainee therapist. She works with clients at a reduced rate, under intensive supervision by a highly experienced therapist. This makes the process both accessible and thorough. Especially now, she feels how engaged she is with each client. “Everything is still new. Everyone feels important.”

The method she practices is Gestalt therapy: a body-oriented approach that focuses strongly on the here and now. It’s not about staying stuck in abstract stories or fixed labels, but exploring what is happening now, in your body, your emotions, and your interactions with others. What do you feel? Where is tension? What happens if you stay with it for a moment?

Gestalt therapy emphasizes awareness and personal responsibility. “Not from guilt, but from empowerment. Not: ‘all of this is happening to me,’ but: ‘how do I stand in this, and what choices can I make?’ The goal isn’t to ‘fix’ someone, but to create more self-acceptance and clarity. From there, movement often arises naturally,” Daniela explains.

“Amsterdam is so international that you just become part of the landscape.” She feels safe and at home. “I don’t really stand out. People are used to different cultures.” She also emphasizes her luck. At the same time, she notices the difference between Amsterdam and the rest of the Netherlands. “Amsterdam is not the Netherlands. Outside the city, you notice that integration works differently.”

According to Daniela, many internationals live in a “bubble.” “You can live in Amsterdam just fine without really integrating. The international and Dutch worlds often exist side by side.” She mainly met her Dutch friends through work, in English-speaking environments. “And if you don’t need Dutch for your job, the motivation to learn the language is also lower.”

The Dutch language continues to be a challenge for Daniela. She understands it well, but speaking requires energy and confidence, not just because of grammar and pronunciation, but also due to perfectionism. “You only really learn by making mistakes,” she knows rationally, yet applying it remains a process. Still, learning the language isn’t a requirement for her; it’s the next step in feeling at home. A way to further narrow the distance.

Her therapeutic work has also changed her perspective on life in the Netherlands. Where she used to focus strongly on cultural differences – what is different, what feels difficult – she realized that this actually kept her further from feeling at home. “By constantly seeing myself as ‘’ I was making that distance bigger.”

Lately, she has been consciously experimenting with a different approach: looking at similarities, at what does fit, at what she is grateful for. This doesn’t mean that everything is suddenly perfect or that she is letting go of her Colombian identity, but it does soften things. “You don’t have to like everything to feel at home somewhere.”

According to Daniela, internationals themselves also play a role in this. It’s natural to complain and seek support from one another, but it can also unintentionally reinforce the separation from Dutch society. Being aware of that already makes a difference.

When the conversation turns to food, Daniela pauses for a moment. The Dutch cuisine isn’t particularly known for its refinement, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate it. “That’s a tricky one,” she says, laughing. “I don’t even know if it’s popular, but I have to say: I really like herring.” For her, it’s mainly a seasonal dish: “It’s definitely a summer thing for me. Fresh herring from a market stall… yes, I really enjoy that.”

Classic dishes have also found a place in her life. “Stamppot is, of course, a typical winter dish,” she says. Over the years, her eating habits have changed. “I mostly eat fish now, so I make stamppot with a vegetarian sausage. But it’s still a nice, warm dish.”

According to Daniela, the strength of Dutch cuisine doesn’t lie in complex meals, but in the quality of the ingredients. “I don’t think it’s about big, elaborate dishes,” she explains, “but about the ingredients.” She specifically mentions cheese and bread: “There’s so much good cheese here, and the bread is really good too. A fresh sandwich with good cheese can be enough.” That simplicity, she says, reflects the country itself. “I think it’s very representative of the Netherlands: simple, practical, straightforward. But if the ingredients are good, it’s just really tasty.” And almost casually, she adds: “And peanut butter. Dutch peanut butter is really fantastic.”

After nine years in the Netherlands, Daniela has discovered several places that left a strong impression on her. Some stood out immediately. “I really love Maastricht,” she says. “It feels different from the rest of the Netherlands.” The coast also surprised her. “Last summer we went to Zeeland on one of those really hot days.”

She describes how it felt: “The beach there was so lovely. It almost felt like you weren’t in the Netherlands for a moment.” What stayed with her most was the combination of landscape and tranquility. “We also cycled through the forests. That was really beautiful. It was a wonderful surprise.”

When the conversation turns to cultural differences, Daniela takes a moment to choose her words. “I think Colombians can learn a lot from Dutch discipline,” she says. “Dutch people are structured and organized, and that helps things run smoothly.” But she also sees opportunities the other way around: “Dutch people could learn a bit more spontaneity from Colombians.”

She immediately adds nuance. “I always find this question difficult,” she admits, “because it’s precisely that structure and discipline that I also appreciate so much about the Netherlands.” What matters most to her isn’t so much behavior, but attitude. “Maybe it’s less about spontaneity and more about openness.”

She explains what she means by that. “Sometimes people have a very clear idea of how things are ‘supposed’ to be. It would be nice if there was a little more space for differences.” According to her, that could also make social connections easier. “Then it becomes simpler to connect with others and build friendships.”

Building a social network took time for Daniela. Her first friendships were formed mostly out of necessity: everyone was new, everyone was looking for connection. Not all of those early contacts lasted. Only over time did she find “her people.”

Work played a big role in this, and it also helped her career. “You build a network. People move on to other companies and later think: hey, maybe this is something for you.” For her, work and social life clearly overlap, but hobbies do too. She spent a period practicing aerial silks, a form of circus art, where she met new people again. According to Daniela, this process is normal: friendships develop in phases, especially as an expat.

Friendships with Dutch people, she describes as valuable but slow-growing. Not because people are closed off, but because their social lives are often already full. “Once you’re in, it’s for the long term,” she says. But that investment takes time and patience.

The difference in social interactions between Colombia and the Netherlands is something Daniela has noticed often. “In Colombia, it’s very normal to invite people over quickly,” she explains. “Especially at parties: the more people, the better.” The term “friend” is also used differently there. “You can see someone two or three times and say: ‘That’s my friend.’ That doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it does mean you accept each other.” In the Netherlands, it’s different. “For Dutch people, ‘friend’ really means something big,” she says. “That takes time.”

She shares a moment that stuck with her: “I had a colleague with whom we had been meeting outside work for a long time. At a festival, he introduced us as ‘colleagues.’” She laughs remembering it. “We looked at each other like: huh?” Later, the realization came: “He said, ‘You’re right, you are my friends.’ But it was as if a switch really flipped.” For Daniela, that typifies Dutch culture: “Friendship is taken very seriously here.”

Over the years, Daniela has embraced several Dutch traditions. Sinterklaas is one of them. “Yes, I’ve celebrated Sinterklaas, with poems and gifts.” She did this both with friends and her in-laws. “We did an adult version, without surprises, but with poems and small gifts. I really enjoyed that.”

She also mentions King’s Day as a highlight. “It’s just really fun to experience.” Easter, however, feels very different from how it is in Colombia. “In Colombia, Easter is much more religious,” she explains. “We have almost a whole week off, and there are processions in the streets.” Religion is also visible in the media. “On TV, you see films and series about Biblical stories,.” In the Netherlands, she experiences Easter more lightly. “Here, Easter feels more like a holiday period. For many people, it’s just a week off.”

When asked about the positive aspects of her life in the Netherlands, Daniela doesn’t have to think long. Safety comes first, the sense that things work, that the system is predictable. For some, that might feel boring; for her, it is reassuring.

She mentions the beauty of Amsterdam, walking through the city, but also the mentality of its people. “Honesty is valued in the Netherlands.” She also senses a strong entrepreneurial energy: “People are willing to help each other, to think along, to open doors.” She has experienced this herself multiple times throughout her different career steps.

At the end of the conversation, Daniela reflects on her decision to move to the Netherlands. Her answer is resolute. “Yes, absolutely. One hundred percent. No regrets. It was the best thing I could have done for my personal and professional growth.”

At the same time, she acknowledges the loss. “I miss my family enormously. Sometimes I feel sad when I think of everything I’ve missed.” Yet her conclusion remains clear: “As an individual, this choice has been incredibly valuable for me.”

Daniela’s advice for people who are unsure about moving is clear and honest. “Do it truly for yourself. Not just for a partner, but also for your own growth.” She emphasizes that it takes time. “It’s not a straight line. Be kind to yourself.”

“Learn to do things with fear,” she says. “You don’t need to feel one hundred percent certain. Fear is not a fact.” And finally, she puts the decision’s permanence into perspective. “If it doesn’t work out, you can often go back. But if you never try, you’ll always wonder: what if?”.

Do you have a story you’d like to share about moving to, working in, or living in the Netherlands?