I Moved To London In My 20s: Here’s What No One Tells You
Cliché or life-changing?
By Kiri Johnston | 8th April 2025It was 2016 when I got my first taste of the London expat life. I’d packed a suitcase and set off to Europe with one of my best girlfriends, ready to immerse ourselves in one hot girl Euro summer. We flew into Heathrow, landing at my brother’s share house where he was living at the time. London was our base, but we were itching to escape the Australian winter and chase the sun.
What followed was a whirlwind five-week itinerary that, looking back, was completely insane: London, Amsterdam, Paris, Nice, Ibiza, Barcelona, Mallorca, Lisbon, Porto, Amalfi Coast, Cinque Terre, Mykonos, and Santorini. I don’t think we could’ve squeezed in another city if we tried. I turned 21 on that trip. By day, we lay on warm, stony beaches; by night, we danced until sunrise—messy, carefree, and totally in the moment.
When I flew home to Brisbane, I was broke and exhausted. But lit up in a way I hadn’t felt before. Within three years, I’d sold nearly everything I owned, saved every cent I could, and convinced my boyfriend that we had to move to London. Everyone thought I was mad. “You’re such a beach bum,” they said. “You’ll hate London—it’s freezing.” But I didn’t care. I was up for the challenge and more than ready to prove them wrong.
Of course, it was hard leaving family, friends, and my dogs behind. But I was in my early twenties, still living in the city I grew up in, and desperate for something new. What did I have to lose? We grabbed our 2-year Youth Mobility visas, packed our lives into two suitcases, and off we went.
After a two-month holiday, we arrived in London… and had that “oh shit” moment. We didn’t know a soul. We had nowhere to stay. No jobs. But weirdly, we weren’t worried. That was the fun of it, figuring it all out as we went.
London is one of the biggest, most exciting cities in the world and I was ready for it. I wanted freedom. I wanted culture. I wanted to get out of my comfort zone and do something different. I’d outgrown Brisbane in my twenties. I was craving more. And the minute I landed in London, I knew I was home.
At first, we did the classic Aussie move to Clapham and lived in a flat share. It was fun, chaotic, and exactly what we needed to start. But I was determined not to fall into the cliché ‘Aussies in London’ life forever (though, let’s be honest, it’s pretty much impossible to avoid). Old high school friends I hadn’t seen in years started popping up, and before long, we had a whole crew of people living parallel lives in London, soaking it all in. It was 2019, and we weren’t taking life seriously. Why would we? That’s the whole point of your early twenties, right?
We worked to pay our extortionate rent, then spent it all on nights out, gigs, festivals, and weekends at the pub. We booked cheap weekend trips to Paris and Copenhagen like it was nothing. It was a blur of late nights, early mornings, and memories I’ll hold onto forever. I’d catch myself in those moments, sitting in some tiny London pub or wandering along the Thames thinking, I’m really doing it. I was living the dream.
Most weekdays followed a rhythm I quickly grew to love. I’d grab a coffee and croissant from Pret on my walk to the Tube, wedge myself onto the Central Line (usually after missing three trains), and walk across Tower Bridge on my way to work. Evenings were for post-work drinks that turned into dinners that turned into just one more pub. Sometimes I’d squeeze in a gym class in Shoreditch or wander home in the dark at 4pm in the dead of winter. London life was fast, fun, and full.
We lived for payday. Rent wasn’t cheap, and neither were spontaneous trips to Italy every other weekend, but somehow we made it work. I sold my old clothes on Depop, skipped Ubers for the night Tube (an experience in itself) and grabbed a cheap lunch at M&S, although there was always room for a proper Sunday roast at the local. There were plenty of weeks when I was scraping by until the next paycheck, but the experiences were always worth it.
Over the next five years, we rode out a global pandemic and more than a few rollercoaster moments, but we also lived through some of the most incredible experiences I could’ve imagined. When COVID hit, everything changed overnight. London, normally buzzing and chaotic, turned eerily still. We did the weekly clap for NHS workers from our tiny flat’s balcony, took long walks around empty streets, and learnt to appreciate the simple things. I’d sit in the park with a takeaway coffee and think how bizarre it was to see the city so quiet. But even then, I was grateful. London had become my new home.
I landed roles at major companies I wouldn’t have dreamed of working for back home in Brisbane. Honestly, even in Australia, those opportunities felt out of reach. I was hungry to learn, to grow, and to push myself. And I did. But in London, there’s this unspoken rule: work hard, but don’t take it too seriously. People live for the weekends, the bank holidays, and those spontaneous trips away. It’s a balanced way of life, and it felt refreshing. They’ve truly perfected the art of living, and I loved soaking it all up.
Yes, it was cold. Freezing, at times. But honestly? Get yourself a decent puffer jacket and you’re sweet. You adapt fast. Pre-London, I spent my weekends at the beach, soaking up the sun. But over there? I learnt to love it. There was something fun about layering up in scarves, beanies, and gloves, commuting through the city like a proper Londoner. I knew it wasn’t forever, and maybe that’s what made me appreciate it all the more. I really make the most of my time there.
Of course, there’s plenty not to love about London. Like any big city, it’s chaotic. The air’s polluted, there’s rubbish on the streets, rats scurrying around, and you’ve got to keep your wits about you. And don’t even get me started on the Tube, being packed in like sardines on your way to work, face-to-armpit, wondering how this became your life.
I even had my phone stolen once. Broad daylight, middle of the street. One second it was in my hand in my coat jacket, the next, some guy on a bike had whipped it away and was gone. That made for a fun afternoon of trying to track it down while swearing I’d never trust anyone on two wheels again. Lesson learnt. But honestly? It’s all character building.
Those tough bits are part of what makes London, London. The chaos, the grit, the madness, it toughens you up. You grow thick skin. You learn to hold your own. And in some weird way, you end up loving it, because it becomes part of the story.
I was lucky enough to land some incredible opportunities. Working at head offices for Harrods, Adidas, NARS, and a handful of start-ups and e-commerce brands, I learnt so much about marketing, creative, and the fashion industry as a whole—one that, honestly, gives Australia a serious run for its money.
It was exciting. I was lapping up every fashion event, every activation happening around town. And thanks to some amazing connections, I found myself attending Fashion Weeks in Paris and London, flying to New York in just six hours, and spending long weekends in Spain, Italy, Stockholm, Croatia, everywhere in between. The ease of travelling around Europe was something I never took for granted. I grabbed every chance I could to jump on a plane and explore somewhere new.
I made the most of every moment in London. I spent my weekends exploring new neighbourhoods, each like its own little city with a different vibe. I found so much joy wandering through markets, strolling the high streets, hanging out in the parks during British Summer Time, and getting amongst the festival scene. Those weekends made me fall in love with the city in a whole new way.
After a couple of years living in Clapham, my partner and I moved east to an our first apartment in Bethnal Green, up on the 8th floor overlooking a park with the City of London in the background. Then eventually to my favourite spot, Dalston, right by De Beauvoir Square. That’s where we really settled into what felt like a true London life. East was a little less polished than South West, but it had an energy I loved. A strong fashion, arts, and creative scene. There was a real confidence about people there, everyone had their own sense of style and wasn’t afraid to show it. It was expressive, unapologetically individual, and I really loved that about it.
I made incredible friends, English, American, European, and plenty of Aussies too. It was all part of the fun. Connecting with people from all walks of life, forming friendships I know will last a long time.
From sitting front row on the top deck of the bus to walking across Tower Bridge on my way to work, these were the everyday moments that shaped me. London pushed me outside of my comfort zone. It taught me more about life, the world, and myself than I ever expected. I learnt to adapt, to grow, and to take on challenges I wouldn’t have thought possible before I moved.
London taught me to back myself. To be okay walking into a room where I didn’t know a soul. To take risks, to get uncomfortable, and to trust that things would work out. It made me realise how big the world is, and how small, too. I left Brisbane as someone who thought they had life figured out and came back knowing there’s so much more out there.
After five years abroad, we made the decision to come home. It wasn’t one of those dramatic, life-changing moments, more of a slow realisation that it was time. Time for a little normality, time to be closer to family again. As much as I loved London, I always knew it was a chapter, not the whole story.
But my time there? It’s something I’ll never forget. The city will always hold a special place in my heart. So, do I think moving to London in your 20s is worth it? Absolutely. Pack a puffer, brace yourself for the Tube, and say yes to everything. It’ll be the adventure of your life.
London’s not perfect, but that’s exactly what makes it what it is. It’s messy, cold, crowded, unpredictable… and completely unforgettable. It’s the kind of place that challenges you, shapes you, and surprises you when you least expect it.
And if you’re thinking about making the move? Do it. It might just be the best thing you ever do.
