I didn’t board that plane looking for love. I boarded it because I was tired of feeling like a ghost — present, but unseen. – Eric Claggett
Bleakness In The U.S.
I want to be careful with how I say this, because it’s easy to misread. In America, I wasn’t struggling to meet “a” women. That’s not what this is about. What I was struggling with was something quieter and a lot more corrosive: I felt completely invisible to the women I was actually attracted to. And I refused to settle. That stubbornness kept me honest, but it also kept me alone for the entirety of my 20s.
I wasn’t willing to settle. That stubbornness kept me honest, but it also kept me alone.
From my view, I’d done everything right, at least by the old playbook. Followed the American Dream. Worked hard. Kept myself together physically. But yet I still felt completely invisible to the opposite sex.
Something had shifted culturally — something my grandfather’s generation, and even my dad’s generation, never had to navigate. The Western dating culture converged with Social media. First it was MySpace, then Facebook, then Instagram and Tinder. In present day OnlyFans is treated like a social media app.
The dating market algorithmized. And the result? More single men and women than at any point in modern history, paradoxically more disconnected than ever.
I wasn’t bitter — or at least I was fighting hard not to be. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the weight of it. I tried PUA. I tried Tinder. I tried meeting women at work, at the same time when a trend was growing – an imperfectly worded phrase could land you a meeting in the HR department.
Fortunately, things changed when I a buddy of mine had visited Cebu, Philippines in 2018. He raved about it. Women were interested in him. There was a feeling for him that men were not the scapegoat of society, that they were actually appreciated and respected. I decide to book my trip.
Also see: Why Move Abroad?
The Moment My Life Changed
I almost cried on the plane. Not from sadness exactly — more like the collision of excitement and hollow loneliness with a side of “what the hell” am I doing. I was leaving behind everything and everyone I had ever known. I was traveling solo to the Philippines. I didn’t know a single person. Nobody wanted to come with me, and after waiting long enough, I stopped asking. Pro tip: don’t wait for other people, just go!
The moment I stepped off the plane in Cebu, something shifted. I can’t explain it fully, but it felt different from the first minute. At the SIM card kiosk in the airport, the woman working the counter looked at me and told me I was handsome. Just like that. Matter of fact.
After that it was everywhere — looks in the malls, on the street, and a completely different online dating experience than the barren, dusty ghost town I’d been navigating back in South Carolina. I was getting matches. Real ones. From women I actually wanted to talk to.
I went on several dates. And then I met Marie. The most beautiful woman I’d ever been on a date with. Her personality was on point to. Funny, happy, smiling, kind, respectful. And she was 21. I was 30. Wow.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt like a catch. I wasn’t invisible. I was genuinely pinching myself that a woman this beautiful would be interested in me — and she later told me she was pinching herself that a foreigner would actually be interested in her.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt like a catch. I wasn’t invisible.
Also see: When Should I Move Abroad?
What I’ve Learned Over the Years
Traveling internationally did more for my self-confidence than every self-help book combined. You can’t read your way to that feeling. You have to go get it.
But here’s the thing — I never set out to have a string of international relationships. I set out to travel. World exploration. That was always the top priority. It just so happened that in many of the countries I traveled to, I was a genuinely desirable option for the women I was meeting. I never pulled some trick or tactic. I’d open a dating app, match with a few singles, and meetup for coffee (I don’t drink).
I’ve mostly stayed out of serious relationships because I’m a travelin’ man (go checkout Ricky Nelson’s Travelin’ Man song). I’ve tried a few long-distance relationships but I’m terrible at them. Usually, they just fizzle out slowly on there own without any hard feelings. That’s not a hot take, it’s just true. Maybe someday I’ll meet one woman who can tie me down.
I’m not perfect. I’ve never tried to be. Maybe I’m not the marrying type — I’ve sat with that possibility long enough to be at peace with it. What I can say is that I’ve had a lot of fun, I’ve lived a lot of life, and I’ve done all of it legally and ethically, without lying to anyone about who I am or what I want.
Also see: 10 Best Affordable Countries for Americans in 2026
Why Do Expats Lie About Dating?
Ask any expat why they moved abroad or you’ll get a very predictable answer. What they usually say:
- “I’m here for the food.”
- “I’m here for the weather.”
- “I’m here for the culture.”
Sure. You picked the Philippines for the food? You picked Thailand for the 100-degree humid weather? You’re in Colombia because because you like the culture?
And his 35-year old girlfriend? Just a coincidence. Sure.
Look — I’m not here to judge. But I am here to be honest in a space where most people aren’t. The most popular expat destinations are popular for a reason, and it’s not the street food. On a side note, I did lose weight moving abroad because the food and lifestyle is healthier.
There’s a newly retired 65-year-old man, right now living his best life in Southeast Asia because the women his age back home won’t give him a second look, and the women there will. That’s real. That’s the conversation most travel bloggers won’t touch.
The big lie isn’t that expats are there for romance. It’s that they pretend they’re not. And I think that pretending does a disservice to every man who’s wondering whether there’s something out there for him — whether the problem is him, or just the pond he’s been fishing in.
Sometimes it’s the pond.
Ready to go deeper?
Date Better Abroad
If this resonated, I put together everything I’ve learned — the mindset, the practicalities, and the honest truths nobody tells you — into a course built for men who are done settling.