I love to travel. I love discovering new places, experiencing different cultures, meeting people and temporarily stepping away from the routine of everyday life.

 

But there is one thing I have never quite managed to leave behind when I travel: my work.

 

Being an immigration consultant and a business owner comes with a responsibility that does not necessarily end when the working day does. Behind every immigration file is a person, and very often a family, making decisions that could shape the next chapter of their lives.

 

That reality has always stayed with me.

 

I honestly cannot remember taking a holiday where I have gone more than two days without working. No matter how carefully I prepare before travelling, there always seems to be something that cannot wait until I return.

 

A client may suddenly need assistance. An employer may have an urgent matter. There may be a request from IRCC or Service Canada with a deadline. Sometimes circumstances change unexpectedly and a decision needs to be made quickly.

 

Immigration does not arrange itself around my holiday schedule.

 

So my laptop travels with me.

 

The Responsibility Behind an Immigration File

 

After more than two decades in Canadian immigration, one thing has never changed for me: I find it very difficult to think of an immigration matter as simply a "file."

 

There is always a person behind it.

 

Someone may be trying to remain in Canada after building a life here. A family may be preparing to leave everything familiar behind and start again. An international student may be making decisions that could affect both their education and future career. A Canadian employer may be relying on an immigration process because they genuinely need someone with particular skills.

 

That creates a level of responsibility that can be difficult to switch off.

 

There are nights when I find myself thinking about a case long after I should be sleeping. Could we make the application stronger? Is there something we have overlooked? Has a regulation changed that could create another possibility? Is there a better strategy?

 

Then there is the other side of my life—running a business.

 

I am constantly thinking about how we can improve Ann Arbour, simplify our processes, communicate more effectively, support our team and provide a better experience for the people who trust us.

 

And, of course, somewhere in the background are those hundred emails I haven't caught up with yet.

 

That part of entrepreneurship rarely makes it into the photographs.

 

You may see the holiday destination. You don't see the laptop open at 6 a.m.

 

Travel Has Given Me a Different Understanding of Immigration

 

Ironically, although my work sometimes makes travelling more difficult, travelling has made me look at my work differently.

 

Immigration is often discussed through policies, programs, eligibility criteria, permits, points and application requirements. Those things are obviously important. But travel reminds me that immigration is fundamentally about people.

 

When I visit another country, I get a glimpse into a different way of life. I see families, traditions, workplaces, communities, food, languages and social customs that are completely normal to the people who live there but unfamiliar to me.

 

It makes me think about what our clients are actually leaving behind when they decide to immigrate.

 

We sometimes talk about "moving to Canada" as though it were simply a change of address.

 

It isn't.

 

Imagine leaving the country where you understand how everything works. Your family may be there. Your closest friends may be there. You may have spent years building a professional reputation and creating a network around you. You understand the culture without having to think about it.

 

Then you arrive somewhere new and have to rebuild parts of your life from the beginning.

 

Travelling temporarily is obviously very different from immigrating permanently—I always know I am going home. But being a visitor in someone else's country continually reminds me how much courage it takes to make another country your home.

 

That perspective has made me more conscious of the human story behind the immigration applications we handle.

 

I Stopped Chasing the Perfect Work-Life Balance

 

Over the years, I have heard a great deal about work-life balance.

 

Business coaches tell entrepreneurs to establish boundaries. Switch off your phone. Don't answer emails after a certain time. Take proper holidays. Separate your personal identity from your business.

 

I understand all of it.

 

I have simply never been particularly successful at doing it.

 

For a long time, I thought that meant I was getting work-life balance wrong.

 

Eventually, I realized that perhaps balance does not have to look exactly the same for everyone.

 

Instead of trying to completely separate my work from my life, I have learned to weave the two together.

 

Travel is probably the best example.

 

If I know I need to work while I am away, I make room for it. I might deal with important matters early in the morning and then go out for the day. I may set aside an hour to review something before dinner. If an urgent situation arises, I deal with it and then return to whatever I had planned.

 

Some days this works beautifully.

 

Other days, work wins.

 

I no longer pretend otherwise.

 

What matters to me is that I still travel, still experience life and still make time for the people and things that matter to me, without pretending that the business I have spent more than two decades building can simply disappear from my mind for two weeks.

 

It may not fit the textbook definition of balance, but it is the version I have learned to live with.

 

Loving Your Work Doesn't Mean You Don't Get Tired

 

There is another side to this that I think entrepreneurs sometimes hesitate to admit.

 

You can absolutely love what you do and still become exhausted by it.

 

Those two things are not contradictory.

 

There are days when I would love nothing more than to close my laptop, switch off my phone and know that nobody needs anything from me.

 

There have been sleepless nights. There have been stressful days. There have been moments when regulatory changes have forced us to rethink months of work. There have been situations where clients are understandably anxious and want answers when there simply isn't an immediate answer to give.

 

Running a business carries its own pressures. Working in immigration adds another layer because many of the decisions involved affect real lives.

 

I don't want to romanticize that.

 

Constantly working is not something I believe people should aspire to, and exhaustion is not evidence of success.

 

I have simply had to learn to recognize when I genuinely need to be involved and when something can wait.

 

I am still learning.

 

More Than 23 Years Later I Still Care

 

Perhaps the question I should ask myself is why, after more than 23 years in this profession, I still take the work so personally.

 

I think it is because I have seen what can happen at the end of the process.

 

Over the years, I have watched people arrive in Canada and build lives they once only imagined. I have seen families begin new chapters. I have watched people establish careers, raise children and create a sense of belonging in a country that was once completely unfamiliar to them.

 

Not every story is easy, and not every immigration journey has the outcome someone hopes for. That is part of the responsibility too. A professional consultant must sometimes have difficult conversations, explain limitations or tell someone that the pathway they hoped for may not be available.

 

But when there is a legitimate way forward and you can help someone navigate it, the work becomes incredibly meaningful.

 

That feeling has never really left me.

 

Immigration Is Only the Beginning

 

My years in this profession have also changed my understanding of what it means to successfully immigrate.

 

For a long time, the immigration industry has naturally focused on getting people to Canada—obtaining the permit, securing permanent residence or completing the immigration process.

 

But after watching newcomers build their lives here, I have come to believe that arriving in Canada is only the beginning.

 

A person can successfully immigrate and still struggle enormously afterwards.

 

They may have qualifications and years of international experience but find that Canadian employers do not immediately understand their background. They may struggle with networking, interviews or workplace expectations. Someone who was highly established professionally in their home country may suddenly feel as though they have to prove themselves all over again.

 

That is one of the reasons our thinking at Ann Arbour has increasingly expanded beyond immigration itself.

 

If we genuinely care about successful immigration, we also have to care about what happens after arrival.

 

Can newcomers translate their experience into the Canadian job market? Can they build careers that reflect their capabilities? Can they understand workplace expectations and integrate successfully?

 

For me, those questions have become part of a much bigger conversation about what it means to help someone build a future in Canada.

 

Sometimes Travel Reminds Me to Look Up

 

There is something else travel does for me.

 

It forces me to look up from the screen.

 

When you run a business, it is remarkably easy for your entire world to shrink to emails, meetings, deadlines, problems and decisions.

 

Then you travel somewhere unfamiliar and suddenly the world becomes enormous again.

 

You see people living completely different lives. You hear languages you don't understand. You eat food you have never tried. You walk through streets where nobody knows who you are or what is sitting unanswered in your inbox.

 

That perspective is valuable.

 

It reminds me that although my work is important to me, there is a much larger world outside it.

 

Perhaps that is why I continue travelling even though I know perfectly well that my laptop will be coming too.

 

Travel does not completely remove me from my work.

 

It gives me enough distance to see it differently.

 

Would I Ever Completely Switch Off?

 

Would I love to take two weeks away and not open my laptop once?

 

Absolutely.

 

Maybe one day I will.

 

But I have also stopped feeling that I need to pretend my life should look a particular way.

 

I chose a profession that carries responsibility. I built a business I care deeply about. I work with people who have trusted us with decisions that matter enormously to them.

 

There will inevitably be moments when that responsibility follows me beyond office hours—and sometimes across borders.

 

The important thing is learning when to give the work everything it requires and when to put the laptop away, walk outside and experience the place I travelled all that way to see.

 

I am still working on that balance.

 

Probably always will be.

 

But after more than 23 years, one thing I know with certainty is that I still love what I do.

 

The stress is real. The exhaustion can be real. The sleepless nights are certainly real.

 

But so is the sense of purpose.

 

And when I see someone we have worked with move forward, build a new life or finally reach a goal they have worked towards for years, I am reminded why this profession has remained such an important part of my life.

 

So yes, when I travel, my work travels with me.

 

Perhaps it always will.

 

But if the work I do helps one more person move closer to the future they hoped for, then I still feel that I am doing what I was meant to do.

 

Sharmila Perera

Licensed Canadian Immigration Consultant

RCIC R417167

Ann Arbour Consultants Inc.