Skip to main contentSkip to navigationSkip to navigation
Berlin street
‘Cities such as Berlin have gained a reputation for their laid-back atmosphere and low cost of living – appealing prospects in comparison to UK cities, where millennials are hit hardest by the recession.’ Photograph: Maremagnum/Getty Images
‘Cities such as Berlin have gained a reputation for their laid-back atmosphere and low cost of living – appealing prospects in comparison to UK cities, where millennials are hit hardest by the recession.’ Photograph: Maremagnum/Getty Images

Young, British and living in Europe – Brexit has turned our lives upside down

This article is more than 7 years old

The flexibility and freedom of movement afforded by the EU embedded itself in our psyche. Now we are in crisis as we wonder: what next?

Since 24 June, much has been made of the “bargaining chip” status of EU citizens living and working in the UK. When the conversation turns to the other side of the coin – the 1.2 million British citizens living in an EU state – the mind jumps to those retired in Spain. But what about British millennial expats, most of whose age group voted to remain, and their burgeoning lives abroad?

The freedom of movement afforded by the EU has embedded itself into our national psyche, be it a stag weekend in Bratislava or a post-exam InterRail trip. But the continent is not just for temporary jaunts. Vastly overlooked are those young people who choose to make a home there. Many get their first taste of living abroad through exchange schemes such as Erasmus, which has seen a rise in participation of 115% since its UK launch in 2007. And English-language degrees are offered at several THE-ranked universities around the Netherlands and Scandinavia, making a quality education obtainable for a fraction of the British cost. Along with navigating bureaucracy and learning a foreign language, students also get an invaluable lesson: how their own country is perceived from the outside. Of students who have participated in a placement or exchange in another EU country, 83% agree that they now have “Europe-wide perspectives beyond the national horizon”.

It follows that a later move to another country is enticing. People aged 18 to 34 are looking beyond their homeland’s borders for career prospects almost twice as much as the preceding generation, with around half of those surveyed feeling more secure and fulfilled in their jobs abroad. Cities such as Berlin have gained a reputation for their laid-back atmosphere and low cost of living – appealing prospects in comparison to UK cities, where millennials are hit hardest by the recession. It’s also at the centre of the European technological start-up scene, along with Tallinn and Lisbon. Start-ups are inherently international because of their need for funding and talent regardless of its origin – so knowledge of the local language is generally not required. It’s extremely common for business to be conducted in English. There are fewer barriers to intra-EU opportunities than even a decade ago.

Since the referendum, there has been a level of uncertainty, and a state of anxiety, among expats of all ages. And the young are likely to be disproportionately affected, as their world is turned upside down right at the start of their careers. We feel helpless about the escalating incidences of xenophobia and homophobia back home. We ease the pain facetiously, with jokes about “marrying a European” for their passport.

We were told that our 20s are for exploration and learning – and most pertinently, for not yet having to make serious, long-term commitments. Yet this is exactly what Brexit is forcing on young Britons prematurely. The pressure to make sacrifices, such as taking steps to put down roots far from our families, is exerting a particular strain. We moved to another EU country on certain conditions. We did not expect those to change so suddenly.

It is not just a practical difficulty, but an emotional one. Those who had planned for only a temporary residence in a foreign country are now considering putting in the years to qualify for EU citizenship. However, in certain member states, such as Austria, dual citizenship is either highly restricted or forbidden – causing the applicant the complicated distress of relinquishing their original citizenship. At the same time, it highlights the absurdity of the system; an Australian with one Irish-born parent, for instance, could be eligible to stay in the EU for as long as they like.

While the Conservative government flounders in talks about what will happen to the 3 million foreign EU citizens based in the UK, two German parties have already offered up the idea of bestowing new citizenship upon young British expats in Germany – the Greens citing “their living situation [being] thrown into question in an unexpected way” as a rationale. There has already been a rise in applications for citizenship of other EU states, mainly from British citizens already abroad.

To be part of the EU is to love the security found in flexibility; the knowledge that if things are not ideal in one place, a clean slate awaits elsewhere. We know that our chances of remaining in a permanent job and owning a home have become slimmer, so we embrace the transient nature of modern life while still craving a sense of belonging. The EU skilfully fuses these instincts. We have learned that few things around us are truly stable, but we are determined to make the best of it.

For a generation that has come to expect an international return flight to be more affordable than a domestic single train journey, Brexit is going to be extremely tough.

Most viewed

Most viewed