Since I embarked on my traveling journey a few decades back, I’ve had the privilege of residing in three different countries. While I found enjoyment in the first two experiences, they weren’t meant to endure. My time living abroad in Mexico, however, has been truly fulfilling, even if many people fail to understand it.
During my time in these various locations, everything from the people and cuisine to the sounds and scents varied greatly. Yet, the inquiries from friends back home remained constant. Particularly the most frequent one:
So… what prompted your move there?
It’s become so predictable that I could easily record my response on my phone for when people ask. The question stays the same, but the reasoning behind it often varies. Some struggle to pose this simple question, substituting it for the deeper thoughts running through their minds.
Nowadays, at times, it’s simply an experienced traveler inquiring what drew me to Guanajuato—why I chose that specific area from countless options? They’re less interested in why I left my homeland and more focused on how I chose my new destination. For nomads, they’re always seeking out new recommendations.
More commonly, though, it’s a perplexed individual from my home country attempting to articulate the turmoil in their mind without appearing impolite. Why would you leave the USA (or Canada) intentionally for a less developed nation? Why would you bring your child along? Why choose a supposedly less “civilized” area? Are you escaping some issue?
I patiently replay the usual reasons about our affordable lifestyle, reduced stress, increased time with loved ones, the chance to enjoy life more freely, and how we don’t require a car in a city with mostly pedestrian-only streets.
My daughter is now bilingual, giving her a significant advantage in life. I can at least manage in a second language. We reside in a city where some structures date back further than Jamestown or Boston.
Those are just the straightforward responses. I could elaborate with more vivid or poetic details if they genuinely cared.
But they don’t.
It’s a futile endeavor, merely a polite exchange, and I realize it won’t alter their perspective or quiet the voices in their heads. By the second sentence, their eyes have already glazed over, as if they’re thinking, “Does… not… compute.”
Relocating to another country without being retired or having job or family obligations seems utterly irrational! Even if the weather is nearly perfect year-round and this is the view from my window after a brief rain:
In Mexico, I find myself healthier, wealthier, and happier, in a more relaxed environment where life is not as competitive. A place where people prioritize living over working. Yet, I don’t expect everyone to accept my viewpoint. They’ve been conditioned too strongly to see a different reality than their own.
Someone told them they reside in the greatest country on Earth, and they accepted it without needing to explore elsewhere. Some even think they enjoy a standard healthcare system. Just as North Koreans are told by state media that everyone shares their poverty, many Americans believe the dreadful medical bureaucracy and profit-driven system they confront is typical globally, rather than a rarity.
Living Abroad is Not for Everyone
It’s perfectly fine for those from my homeland to think I’m out of my mind. I get it. They simply don’t know any better.
There might be a few million Americans and Canadians residing abroad—more if you include digital nomads—but that’s a minuscule percentage of the total population. When we settle in locations most can’t even pinpoint on a map, we encounter dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands of others just like us. We witness expat families nurturing children who turn out just fine. People like me maintain the same job they had in the USA, merely connecting their laptop to a different socket.
So it gradually feels normal to us. But the reality is that we’re a small minority. We may resemble the population of Connecticut, but that state’s population is lower than the number of yee-haws in just Houston. For now, at least, we remain a fringe movement.
I’m quite comfortable being on the fringe. I’m self-employed and take time off whenever I wish. Unless my family reaches out, I hardly feel the urge to consult my smartphone. I’m free from a boss and don’t clock in or out. I’m Antifragile.
Let those who follow someone else’s rules stress out over their bad