Why Some People Thrive on Fresh Starts — And What That Means for Who You're Dating

A client — measured, self-aware — had dated someone for nearly two years before the inconsistencies became impossible to ignore. Stories that didn't match. References to a past that seemed to shift with each telling. A previous partner in another city who turned out not to be previous. Not a dramatic unmasking — a slow accumulation of detail that didn't add up. 'In hindsight,' she told me, 'there was nothing holding him accountable to anyone. He had arrived in this city as a clean slate. He had made himself whatever he wanted to be.'

International cities with large, mobile expat populations offer something genuinely valuable to most of the people who move there: the freedom to begin again. A new professional chapter, a richer social landscape, the space to grow beyond who you were in a previous context. For the majority of people, this is healthy and generative. The fresh start is real, and it is good.

But research in personality psychology has identified a subset of individuals for whom the appeal of a fresh start is more specifically about escaping accountability — about the freedom to construct a new self, unchallenged by anyone who knew the previous one. Understanding this pattern is not about cultivating suspicion toward people who have relocated. It is about recognising a specific dynamic that expat environments make structurally easier.

The research on personality and mobility

Studies on narcissism and geographic mobility have found that individuals who score high on narcissistic traits — self-aggrandisement, low empathy, entitlement, a strong orientation toward self-presentation — show a greater tendency toward voluntary relocation, particularly toward cosmopolitan, high-status environments that offer the social cues — novelty, status signals, new audiences — that support a grandiose self-narrative (Jonason et al., 2010).

Research on what is sometimes called the dark triad — the overlapping constellation of narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy — has similarly noted a pattern of strategic self-presentation, short-term relational orientation, and a preference for environments in which established reputation is absent and new impressions can be carefully managed (Paulhus & Williams, 2002). People high in these traits tend to thrive in contexts where no one knows their history.

International expat cities provide exactly this context. The social accountability that would normally check and complicate self-presentation is absent. The audience is entirely new. The persona is limited only by the effort put into maintaining it.

What this can look like in practice

Certain patterns tend to appear in retrospect, though they are rarely obvious in the moment. The history is unusually opaque: deflections around previous relationships, previous cities, previous jobs — not aggressive deflections but smooth, practised ones, always with a plausible explanation. The self-narrative is polished to a degree that leaves little room for complexity. Healthy self-awareness tends to produce messier stories, with acknowledged failures and genuine uncertainty. A narrative that is perfectly coherent and consistently flattering is worth noticing.

Escalation tends to happen quickly. Intense early investment — declarations of connection, future-building language, significant gestures early in the relationship — can be genuine. It can also be a technique: the faster the emotional commitment, the less time is available for careful observation. And the social network is thin or entirely new — no friends from previous chapters, no professional relationships that span years, a past that seems to begin where they arrived.

None of these signals is conclusive on its own. The purpose of naming them is not to produce suspicion where it is unwarranted. It is to provide a framework for paying attention — and to support the understanding that time is the most reliable diagnostic tool. Character cannot be maintained indefinitely. What people are, eventually shows.

A specific kind of grief

If a relationship ended and what came into view — slowly, over time — was a version of the person that was fundamentally different from what you had been presented with, there is a specific kind of grief that follows. It is not just the loss of the relationship. It is the loss of the version of events that felt real. The retroactive uncertainty about what was genuine and what was managed.

That is a particularly disorienting form of loss, and it warrants specific clinical attention. It is not the same as a relationship that failed because two people were incompatible. Understanding the difference matters for how recovery is structured — and for how trust is rebuilt over time.

About the Author

Ms. Sarah El Nabulsi is a DHA-Licensed Clinical Psychologist (License No. DHA-75083705) based in Dubai, specialising in individual therapy, relationships, anxiety, and identity. She works with clients from across the world and offers sessions in English, Arabic, and French, in person in Dubai and online internationally. Her clinical work sits at the intersection of evidence-based psychology and the particular challenges of modern expatriate life.

Book a Consultation

If you are navigating a breakup or processing the end of a difficult relationship and would like structured clinical support, Ms. El Nabulsi offers individual therapy in Dubai and online. You can learn more and book a consultation at sarahelnabulsi.com/breakup-therapy-dubai.

References

Jonason, P. K., Koenig, B., & Tost, J. (2010). Living a fast life: The dark triad and life history theory. Human Nature, 21(4), 428–442.

Paulhus, D. L., & Williams, K. M. (2002). The dark triad of personality: Narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy. Journal of Research in Personality, 36(6), 556–563.