As I write this, I’m enjoying a picture-perfect autumn day in my home state of Colorado. Cloudless blue skies, pleasantly warm temperatures, a bit of a breeze working its way through the many trees I can see, sending leaves fluttering down – shades of reds, yellows, and burnt orange.

Fall is by far my favourite time of the year in Colorado, and this was what drove the timing of this visit back home. In talking to many expats, one of the common threads seen over and over is that, though they like the year-round tropical summer in Malaysia, most of them miss having seasons.

I can say that I don’t really miss the long winters back home… it’s not so much because they’re brutally cold; they’re usually not. It’s just the absence of green for so long. Barren trees, brown grass, less sunlight… it wears on you after a while. But I do miss the changing of the seasons, particularly that magical time in Colorado during September and October where summer so beautifully segues into winter.

So I’ve been back home for a week or so now, and of course, the impending US election is dominating everything. (By the time this column is read by most of you, the election may have already occurred.) It’s the most puzzling and frankly depressing election cycle of my lifetime, and the ascendancy of Donald Trump as the Republican nominee for President is certainly a key part of that. He has somehow latched onto a latent anger and fear among a subset of Americans.

To hear him tell it, or to listen to his supporters, the US is perched at the precipice of utter ruin, the country bordering on a near-dystopian wasteland. But as I was outside earlier, soaking up the gorgeous weather and enjoying the fall colours, I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was driving this swell of antipathy and fear that Trump has so masterfully tapped into.

Unemployment is below 5%, gas prices are the lowest they’ve been in years, the economy is moving along pretty well (it’s not on fire by any means, but it’s doing okay), the stock market is thriving, we’ve had no terrorist attacks befall us, nor any natural catastrophes, violent crime is way down (in fact, it’s dropped by 51% since 1991), and the standards of living haven’t plunged into the abyss. Simply put, life in the United States is still pretty good.

Are there problems? Of course. We have clear racial issues that need tending to, income inequality is a growing concern, education needs reform, a number of our bridges and roads are in need of attention, plus all the minor problems that might be expected in such a vast and populous country. But it’s just not that bad. Not by a long shot.

How being an expat changes you

Then I realised two things about how being an expat has changed me – and for the better, I would hope. First, being an expat over the last eight years has given me a more global perspective. Expats are generally not myopic people anyway, but when you live overseas, and when you travel to other countries and see how other people live, it gives you a very real sense of how large and diverse the world truly is. And if, like me, you have travelled to poorer countries, it absolutely helps you see how fortunate you have been.

I have been to some of the poorest countries in Asia – Cambodia, Myanmar, and Nepal come immediately to mind – and seen how desperate the lives of some of their people are, and I am both humbled and grateful at my good fortune to have been born in a country with opportunity, with wealth, and with high standards of living.

On a global scale, if we’re being rational, there is frankly not much for Americans to be so angry about. And though it’s entirely human for us to fear what we don’t understand or know, there’s not much reason for Americans to live in fear, either. And that’s the second thing about being an expat: we’re generally a pretty fearless lot. Once you’ve been an expat for a while, you become quite confident in your ability to handle whatever life throws your way.

From America to Asia

I’m writing this column in two parts, and for the end, I’m now back in Malaysia. Just this past weekend, I was in the rural outback of North Sumatra – the area around Lake Toba and Samosir Island, more specifically. In a rented minivan, I drove myself and a few friends well over 450 km over all manner of roads, many of them narrow and of dubious quality, more than a few not even really paved. For the trip, we had no real plans, just kind of took things as they came – the good and the bad – and it crossed my mind that plenty of people wouldn’t embrace this sort of adventure into the unknown.

In talking to other expats, this seems to be a common quality… a general fearlessness towards life. Not heedless irresponsibility, mind you. But just a quiet assurance that, having gone through trial by fire, we’re capable of being patient, adaptive, and resilient. Not much rattles the seasoned expat.

So whether I’m traveling to parts unknown, meeting new people, taking on a fresh challenge in a different country, or even just casting a vote in a messy presidential election, I have found that abandoning fear and accepting that life is uncertain and that people are diverse and that the world we live in is always changing are among the greatest lessons I’ve learned as an expat.