“I am leaving without knowing when, or if, I will return.”
In 2024, at the graduation ceremony of the University of Cyprus, top student Lambros Dionysiou said he was leaving “without knowing when, or if, he will return”. His words captured a reality many young Cypriots recognise. The future no longer follows a single path. It is shaped through decisions that are revised, delayed and reconsidered. He spoke of a system where merit is often overshadowed by connections, where professional advancement can depend less on skills and experience and more on party affiliation or family networks. He described institutions that, in his view, fail to function as they should, allowing scandals to accumulate without accountability and reinforcing a sense that nothing meaningfully changes. He also pointed to a broader lack of long-term thinking, arguing that the country remains trapped in short-sighted decision-making while larger global challenges continue to grow, leaving younger generations of Cypriots uncertain about their place within that future. The conversation continues today. Four young Cypriots spoke to Politis to the Point about their experiences, the environments they navigated and how they now approach the question of whether to stay or leave.
Living as she chooses
Stavriani S., 26, works as a lawyer in London. After finishing her studies in England, she returned to Cyprus temporarily to complete her Bar exams. As she explains it, the decision to leave again came quickly, within a matter of days. At first she lived with flatmates because her income did not allow her to live alone. Today she has reached a point where she can fully support herself, something that matters deeply to her.
“In this economy, being able to live alone in your twenties is important,” she says.
The cost of living in London remains severe. She describes couples sharing a single bedroom in houses with many tenants just to get by, while many Cypriots choose to live outside the city and spend hours commuting every day. She chose to live in central London, accepting the heavier financial burden in order to avoid those long journeys and to feel more at ease in her daily life. That choice, she says, is tied to the way she wants to live.
She speaks positively about the professional opportunities, the infrastructure and the everyday rhythm of the city, all of which she compares favourably with Cyprus. She enjoys what London offers her. She does not have the expense of a car, she is close to work and culture, and she feels she is building a life on her own terms. “For me, that sacrifice is worth it, because I am living the life I chose,” she says. “I wouldn’t change it.”
Still, there are things she misses. She mentions the ease of moving around by car, the weather and a more immediate social life. In London, she says, the distances and the climate can create isolation. The weather is a bigger factor than many people realise. “The weather affects even the locals,” she says, and argues that people often underestimate how much it shapes mood and routine. She is nostalgic for Cyprus and sees its appeal more clearly now than she once did. She also says she feels like a less autonomous version of herself when she comes back for periods of time. That, too, tells her something about the life she has built abroad. Cyprus remains a possible choice for later, in another phase of life. For now, what matters is the autonomy and confidence she gained by leaving.
Her advice to others is simple: if what you are looking for abroad is something new and difficult that will reward you personally, then take the risk and do it. Cyprus, in her view, still has a long way to go, especially in working culture.
A return shaped by pressure
Rafaella S., 28, first went to Ireland for academic reasons, a path that was almost predetermined because she came from an English-speaking school. Her studies were a positive experience. She had access to systems, infrastructure and opportunities that she considers stronger than what she later encountered in Cyprus. She stayed on for a period and tested the labour market in practice.
The main obstacle was financial. As a recent graduate, she could not find work that would allow her to live independently without basic deprivation. Her return to Cyprus did not come as a conscious lifestyle decision. It followed that economic pressure.
When she compares the two environments, she speaks about greater opportunities, better pay and a different work culture abroad. She places particular emphasis on work-life balance and on the way employees are treated. She points to accessibility and strong public transport as part of a wider quality of life that, for her, outweighed the high cost of living. She had adjusted to the weather. She had adapted to life there. What she could not solve was the insecurity of starting out professionally without enough income to stand on her own.
Her homesickness for Cyprus, she says, is not decisive. “Being homesick is not enough reason not to stay abroad if your quality of life is better there.” She treats her current stay on the island as a condition that could change if the right circumstances emerge. If she had the choice, she says plainly, she would not stay in Cyprus.
Training, work and personal space
Alexis L., 25, lives in Athens, where he is completing his medical residency. His choice is directly linked to the training opportunities available in Greece, which he does not find to the same extent in Cyprus. As he explains it, the range of cases and access to equipment make the training more complete. At the same time, he recognises that the salaries of trainee doctors in Cyprus are significantly higher, which is why many doctors return after they finish their residency.
For him, however, the decision is not defined by career alone. As a queer person, he says he feels more comfortable expressing himself in Athens, both in daily life and in the workplace. In Cyprus, by contrast, he would be far more guarded. He says he would not feel the same safety in being himself in a professional environment, or outside it, within what he describes as the puritan social climate of Cyprus. He fears for his physical safety much more in Cyprus than in Greece.
That does not mean he idealises Greece. He is clear about its weaknesses. Infrastructure, state functionality and the wider feeling of social cohesion are all lacking, in his view. Cyprus, he says, has the advantage at the institutional level. It is better organised. The problem lies elsewhere. If Cyprus were to move beyond its social taboos and offer a fuller life to the average person, and not only to those who are financially comfortable, then he believes it would have little to envy. Under those conditions, he would consider returning permanently. At the moment, he says, neither the health system as it stands nor the society around it would allow that.
“You don’t have to belong anywhere”
Narcie H., 33, had decided from a very young age that she would leave Cyprus. At 14, she had already packed her mind for university. At 16, she was accepted. At 17 and a half, she left for the United States. She grew up in Livadia, Larnaca, and says she always felt isolated there, never quite fitting in. She describes a small community shaped by expectations, restraint and judgment. “I couldn’t express myself fully,” she says. “I couldn’t conform.”
She remembers watching life abroad and feeling instinctively that it was better out there. In the United States, and especially in Massachusetts, she entered a far more open and multicultural world. She recalls the liberation of moving from a tight social environment into one where difference was visible and ordinary. Skin colours, gay couples, a more relaxed way of speaking, everyday activities, access to parks and leisure, the sense that there was something for everyone. She describes that period as one of freedom and expansion.
Over time, that picture changed. As a teenager, she encountered the US one way. As an adult, as a taxpayer and business owner, she saw another side. The country became more polarised, more fearful and more openly racist, she says, especially after travelling across different states. She no longer feels aligned with the social and political direction she sees there.
Her relationship with place became more complicated. She returned to Cyprus and now moves back and forth, maintaining international work, travelling often and collaborating across countries. She lives in the mountains and has created a space that suits her. She feels safe there. Cyprus, she says, is still much safer than most of the world. She is also finding people she wants to be around, especially younger people who have the appetite to build and to create but were never given the chance to leave. She feels she is contributing to something evolving on the island.
The experience of the wildfires strengthened that feeling. Through the app she developed during the fires, helping coordinate information and connect people on the ground, she came into contact with many people who showed care, seriousness and solidarity. “People were saying, ‘don’t forget to sleep’ and ‘thank you’,” she recalls. She had expected far less. What she found instead were people with dignity and a moral compass. That reinforced her decision to maintain a presence here.
At the same time, she rejects the idea that one must belong to a single place. “You don’t have to settle anywhere,” she says. “I go where I need to be.” For her, movement is not instability. It is a conscious way of living. She travels to Vienna, the UK and elsewhere for work, deals with global clients and believes that in digital professions it would be a mistake to tie oneself down geographically. The ability to move, and the exposure to other cultures, shape major life decisions in a more meaningful way than staying put and wondering what if.
She also speaks with irritation about the pressure placed on young Cypriots to settle down early, marry, have children and pursue social approval before they have had the chance to discover who they are. She rejects that model for herself. Other people may want it, she says, and that is fine. The issue begins when it is imposed. “Choose what makes you happy,” she says. “Fear is a very bad fuel for adventure.”
A question that stays open
The decision to stay or leave Cyprus is not fixed and it is rarely final. It changes with opportunities, with need, with work, with identity and with the kind of life each person wants to build. Cyprus remains, for many, professionally narrow and socially restrictive. The outside world opens doors, but it comes with cost, distance and its own forms of pressure.
That is why the movement does not stop neatly at departure or return. It continues in both directions. People leave, come back, leave again, divide their time, postpone decisions, test other lives and revise what they once thought was certain. As long as opportunities and personal needs do not fully meet in the same place, this movement will remain part of the reality for many young Cypriots.