Why I Returned to Vietnam After 10 Years in Europe
After a decade in France, I fell in love with its culture while feeling like an outsider. Now I'm back to bridge two worlds and bring liberté de pensée home.
After ten years in Europe — completing two degrees, building a career, and making lifelong friends — I made what many considered a surprising decision: I moved back to Vietnam.
The Question Everyone Asks
"Why would you leave?" It's the question I've heard dozens of times. And I understand the confusion. Europe offered stability, opportunity, and a quality of life that many aspire to. So why leave?
The answer isn't simple. Because the truth is: I fell deeply in love with France. And somehow, that love is exactly why I needed to return.
Falling in Love as an Outsider
Here's the paradox: I spent a decade feeling like "the outsider" — and yet that outsider perspective is precisely what let me fall in love with French culture in ways natives might take for granted.
I loved the weekends. Not because I had nothing to do, but because I had everything to do. Saturday mornings at museum exhibitions. Sunday afternoons wandering through galleries. The Louvre, Musée d'Orsay, Centre Pompidou — each visit revealing something new about art, history, and the way humans make sense of their world.
What struck me most wasn't the art itself, but the culture around it. On Monday mornings, my French colleagues would share what they did over the weekend: a new exhibition they discovered, a film they watched, a book they were reading, a hiking trail in the countryside. The conversations were about experiences, ideas, beauty.
This was a revelation.
Back home in Vietnam, lunch conversations often drift toward real estate prices, stock tips, who bought what car. There's nothing wrong with that — it reflects different anxieties, different life stages. But in France, I discovered a different way of living: one where intellectual curiosity and cultural experiences were valued for their own sake.
The French have a phrase for it: liberté de pensée — freedom of thought. Not just the political freedom to think, but a cultural permission to prioritize thinking, exploring, questioning. To spend your weekend at a museum instead of calculating your next investment. To value ideas as much as outcomes.
What I Learned in Europe
My decade in France was transformative. I:
- Earned a PhD in network security and machine learning
- Worked with brilliant minds from dozens of countries
- Learned to navigate different cultures and communication styles
- Built resilience through countless moments of being "the outsider"
- Developed a deep appreciation for art, philosophy, and intellectual discourse
These experiences shaped who I am today. But they also clarified something important: growth isn't just about where you go, but what you do with what you've learned.
And what I learned in France wasn't just technical knowledge. It was a way of seeing the world.
The Vietnam I Returned To
Vietnam in 2021 is not the Vietnam I left in 2011. The tech ecosystem is vibrant. Startups are flourishing. Young people are ambitious and globally minded.
But I also saw gaps — not just in technology, but in culture:
- DeFi and blockchain that could bring financial access to millions
- Global perspectives that local teams crave
- Research insights that haven't yet reached this market
- A cultural bridge between East and West that few are positioned to build
The Real Reason
If I'm being honest, the real reason I returned is more ambitious than just "giving back."
Yes, there's the Vietnamese proverb: "Uống nước nhớ nguồn" — When drinking water, remember the source. My source gave me the foundation to succeed abroad.
But I also want to strengthen the bond between France and Vietnam. To be a bridge between two cultures that shaped me. To bring back not just technical skills, but the liberté de pensée that transformed how I see the world.
I want Vietnamese professionals to have Monday morning conversations about the exhibition they visited, the book that changed their thinking, the idea that kept them up at night. Not because material success doesn't matter — but because intellectual richness makes material success more meaningful.
What's Next
I don't have all the answers. I'm learning to navigate a country that's both familiar and changed. I'm rebuilding networks, understanding new dynamics, and figuring out how to bridge my worlds.
But I'm excited. This feels like the beginning of something meaningful — not just for my career, but for the cultural exchange between France and Vietnam.
If you're contemplating a similar decision — whether it's returning home, making a major career change, or following a path that doesn't make sense to others — here's what I'd say:
Trust your instincts. The path that feels right, even when it's hard to explain, is usually the one worth taking.
And if you've been shaped by two cultures, don't see it as being split between worlds. See it as being uniquely positioned to connect them.
What would you do if you had to choose between comfort and calling? Have you ever felt like an outsider who fell in love with the place that made you feel different? I'd love to hear your thoughts.