So... We Moved to Mexico

To say a lot has changed over the last few months would be, well, a gross understatement. For years, Brian and I toyed around with the idea of moving out of Canada, a question born from the realization that every time we pictured our life outside Toronto, we felt disinterested in what we saw. We knew Toronto wouldn’t be home forever, but we couldn’t seem to pinpoint any other city or province that felt appropriately aligned with what we wanted out of life in the grand scheme of things. Unsurprisingly, the pandemic was a catalyst to this discussion. The city felt irrevocably different to both of us in its wake and a certain feeling of disenchantment settled in, coating the rose-coloured glasses we once wore with a thick layer of grime. Not to mention, the cost of living was ratcheting up at a pace that had us peering pensively at our bank accounts each month, wondering where all the money went. All the budgeting in the world couldn’t stave off the feeling that a future in Canada might come with a price-tag we simply couldn’t afford, when considering the traditional goal-posts of a house, kids, retirement etc.. A thought which feels especially depressing when you have, by all measures, a successful career and an income that likely rivals (if not supersedes) that of your parents when they were your age, when the world was seemingly theirs for the taking. All that to say — Brian and I kept arriving back at the same question: if not Toronto, and if not anywhere else in Canada, where did we want to end up? Mexico entered the chat fairly early on, largely by my suggestion, as I have always loved Mexico and had the reference point of a few friends who had made the move mid-pandemic. For one, Mexico was a destination we could drive to (there wasn’t a chance in hell I was putting my sleep-apnea, anxiety-riddled pug on a plane). The rest of the items on our “Pro” list were equally compelling — the culture, the climate, the diverse landscape and access to nature (mountains, desert, beaches, jungle), the cost of living, reasonable visa options, the easy flight back home or for our loved ones to come visit. Knowing I would be working remote, I also wanted to choose a place with a favourable timezone for scheduling meetings with clients back home. The only issue? Brian had never been to Mexico, and while some Millennials might live by the mantra “do it for the plot”, moving to a country sight-unseen felt a bit reckless for our taste. So, at the end of September I flew to Cabo to stay with one of my girlfriends, Sarah, from University (who had the foresight and the balls of absolute steel to move to Mexico solo mid-pandemic, right when things got really weird). There, I was able to begin the process of getting my 4-year temporary residency visa via Regularization — a process which Sarah made possible by way of tolerating my never-ending barrage of questions over the course of 182 days and connecting me with a lovely immigration lawyer, Josefina. The goal of the trip was simple, but simultaneously complicated — I wanted to serve up the perfect sample-platter of Mexican cities to Brian, in the hopes of endearing him to the country I already loved while narrowing down where we might end up. After an aggressive amount of planning, I settled on the following itinerary: Brian would meet me in Mexico City for a 2-day stint, we would bus over to San Miguel De Allende (where another girlfriend of mine lives, after also having the guts to move to Mexico mid-pandemic), then we would fly to Puerto Vallarta (during which we would also check out Bucerias and Sayulita), and then we would make our way back to Cabo, where I would finish my visa process, collect my TR card, and we would head back home. The trip was, as expected, wonderful — we spent the better part of a month eating incredible food, catching up on sleep, trying out different gyms, going on hikes, soaking up the sun, swimming in the ocean, and taking in the views — but there was an elephant in the room with us. While we loved Mexico City, SMA, PV, and Cabo for different reasons, none of them felt like the ‘one’. On the plane ride home, I found myself fighting the uniquely nasty combination of a vertigo spell and a sinking feeling in my gut that I had failed my mission. Brian wasn’t convinced. We didn't find what we were looking for. Now, to avoid writing something so long everyone’s eyes effectively glaze over, I’ll give you the Coles Notes of what happened next. I went back to the drawing board — AKA my original list of could-be destinations in Mexico, which included Merida, Playa Del Carmen, and Oaxaca. After a little internet browsing and some chats with total strangers on Facebook (because who better to give you life-altering advice?), we landed on the coastal paradise that is Puerto Escondido. Known as a haven for surfers (especially the ones that get a kick out of riding waves the size of buildings), Puerto had only registered as a small blip on our radar initially, but once we did a bit more digging, we realized it might have (at least on paper) everything we were looking for. A robust fitness community (including martial arts)? Check. Surf culture and skate culture (Brian’s preferred pastime)? Check. Great beaches? Check. A decent expat community? Check. A slower pace of life? Check. Affordable living? Check. Hot weather all year round? Check. Proximity to a cultural hub/big city? Check. Was it insane to assume that our expectations would translate to reality, enough so that we gave up our Toronto apartment, got a bigger car, got rid of/sold our stuff and packed everything that remained into our car to drive 8 (somewhat gruelling) days across Canada, the US, and Mexico shortly after Christmas? Maybe. But honestly? The gamble paid off. Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca is a truly special place, and while we haven’t been here long, I think we can both confidently say it is exactly what we expected it to be, and maybe even more. The people are warm, the community is strong, the food is incredible, the beach is epic, the sun is constant, the heat is a welcome departure from the inevitable despair of Canadian winters, and the sunrise and sunset each day often feels too good to be true. Oh and, for what it’s worth, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen more beautiful people in one place.

I have plenty more to say about all of this — like I said, the last couple months have felt like a whirlwind and the life I’m living today, as I write this, is completely different than the life I was living just 3 months ago. While in the thick of packing up our house, I made the joke that selling all your things (it doesn’t count if you just shove half your shit in a soon-to-be-forgotten storage locker, FYI) feels like an extreme sport designed by Marie Condo herself, but it truly is liberating. Panic-inducing too, but the exercise illuminates what we all likely know to be true on some level: we collect so much shit that we don’t need, especially of the material goods, things-I-purchased-on-Amazon-or-at-Home-Sense-that-definitely-weren’t-necessary variety. Less sometimes really is more. Also, and perhaps more importantly, life is too short to never take the big leaps. Worst case scenario? It doesn’t work out, and nothing changes. Best case scenario? It does work out, and everything changes. As we prepped for this move, I kept coming back to the same thought: If you want more out of your life, it’s pretty unlikely that someone is going to hand it to you, or give you a perfect roadmap. You are the architect of your life — so if it’s in your power (spoiler: it is), do something about it before you’re handed reasons not to. That being said, I am endlessly grateful to everyone who helped me piece our roadmap together over the last 6 months (you know who you are), to Brian for making this jump with me, and to our friends and family for supporting us through it (even if they thought — or still think — we are insane for it). Every day I’ve spent here I’ve been struck with gratitude for this chapter of life, even the uncomfortable bits, and I hope I’ll have the time and creative energy (finally) to write more, share more, and grow beyond the version of myself that left Toronto earlier this year.