• My girlfriend and I dated for a year and a half before we decided we wanted to live together.
• While thinking of where we wanted to live, we decided on Manchester, a city new to both of us.
• We found a two-bedroom apartment and we love exploring our new city together.

While dating, my girlfriend and I lived in different cities. We met on X — we started following each other back in 2021 and began speaking more frequently after she offered to give me some comments for an article I was writing the following year. Our first date was in January 2023, and we made things official in March.

For the first year and a half of our relationship, we had a gap of over 100 miles — seen as fairly long-distance in the UK, particularly if neither of you drives. The frequent trains and buses can be stressful and take up a lot of time.

We decided to end the long-distance chapter of our relationship

My girlfriend had been living in London for almost seven years, first as a student and then as a graduate, and she wanted something different. I'd lived in a few different cities and liked the idea of moving somewhere else for the longer term.

Her lease expired in August 2024, while mine was on a rolling monthly contract, so we explored the prospect of moving in together.

While London is a great city, it's very expensive; even though there are so many things to do, it's difficult to afford them. Other cities I've lived in, like Southampton, Cardiff, and Bath, are all great in their own ways, but there's often either not much going on, or they have less desirable transport links.

We settled on Manchester, still one of the UK's biggest cities but in the north of the country, which tends to be more affordable. So, there's still plenty to do, and we're also more likely to have the money to actually do it.

We found a great apartment and have settled in nicely

We looked at a few different apartments, and found a development in walkable distance to the city center for shops and amenities. Not living in London, we were able to get a two-bedroom apartment and use one as an office — I work from home full-time, while my girlfriend goes into the office once or twice a week.

The extra space has been a major benefit because it makes it so that we aren't always under each other's feet. And self-employed life can get lonely, so I like having my girlfriend here during the workday, even if we're both busy and aren't talking much during the day.

Moving to another city together means that you're both in the same boat and dealing with the same stress of moving — one isn't uprooting their life for the other. And when it comes to things like finding friends, we've been in the same position, and have hung out with people both as a couple and alone.

We love exploring our new city together

It's been exciting to explore the city together, too. While we'd both been to Manchester before, neither of us really knew our way around. Together, we've been able to explore a wide range of exciting bars, pubs, cafes, and restaurants, not needing to rely on one of us to act like a tour guide for the other.

An additional perk is the proximity to family. My girlfriend's parents live about an hour's drive away, so it's been nice for her to be closer to them after so long in London, while it's also easier to get to my family.

One of the first things we did when moving was adopt two cats. Moving somewhere new has meant that we aren't seeing friends as much as we might have before, but the added company of the cats has helped us adjust — and given us something to focus on together. Though going out in our new city is fun, the cats can make a quiet evening in so much more entertaining.

• I lived in Salem, Oregon growing up and thought it was so boring.
• After leaving for college and coming back to visit my parents, I realized it wasn't so uncool.
• Moving back to Oregon now feels impossible.

When I was 16 years old, I was convinced that the most boring place on Earth was Salem, Oregon.

As a grunge-punk teen growing up in the 90s, I thought Salem was everything that Seattle and Portland were not. It wasn't cool, edgy or exciting. It was a city of bureaucrats, where you could find dozens of spots to grab coffee or a sandwich, but not much in the way of night life. And anyway, underage fun was strictly forbidden. Forget sneaking into a bar; we couldn't even get into an R-rated movie. My friends and I spent our Friday nights at Denny's, drinking endless cups of coffee and dreaming about moving somewhere cool.

I had lived in Salem all my life, and although I'd traveled with my family to California, Hawaii and even Europe, I longed to experience something new. In Salem, I felt like a round peg in an extremely square hole.

College, I thought, was my chance to find a place where I fit in. I applied to several out-of-state schools and didn't look back once graduation rolled around.

My new life was about to begin.

I realized maybe it wasn't that uncool

Once it began, though, I had a rude awakening. I was all alone on the other side of the country — thousands of miles away from everything familiar. What had seemed thrilling was often just isolating, lonely, and scary.

As each semester passed by, I felt myself drifting further and further away from my family and friends. Many of them had left Salem, like me, but they were still close by, in Portland, Seattle, or Eugene. But as many people do, I met my husband in college, and we ended up settling in his hometown in upstate New York.

Thanks to the 2000s housing bubble, we were able to buy our first home when we were still in our 20s. A few years later, we had a child. We were putting down roots, but I still felt out of place. I struggled to make friends in our small town, feeling at times like the people I met just didn't "get" me. And in the years before remote work, my professional options were limited.

Each time I visited my parents, I couldn't help but notice how the city that had seemed so deeply uncool actually had a lot to offer. The coffee shops and restaurants that I had been so bored of now felt pleasant and familiar. My old friends welcomed me back with open arms. It felt so comfortable to slip back into the laid-back, casually funky atmosphere of the Pacific Northwest. Had I become a square peg after all? Or had Salem gotten just a little bit less square? Either way, it began to feel more and more like this was the place where I fit in after all.

Moving back is impossible now

As my parents have grown older, my longing for the Pacific Northwest has grown more acute, and more personal. I've longed to be closer to them during their retirement years, to spend time that is deeper and richer than short holiday visits.

But moving back to Oregon feels impossible. The skyrocketing housing prices on the West Coast have me sick with sticker shock. The average price of a house in Salem is nearly twice what my home is worth. The math just isn't mathing. Not to mention the fact that we are raising a child here, who loves her school, her friends, and the small town we call home — a place where she does fit in.

While I've tried to visit Oregon as often as possible, it doesn't always feel like enough. Once, when I brought my daughter to visit my mom and dad, she said, "Mama, I love it here in Oregon. I wish we could live here. But Dada and Grandma and Poppa are in New York. What are we going to do?"

I had no answer to give her. I've made my home in New York, but Oregon will always feel like home to me. Now, as my parents need even more care and support, I sometimes wish I had never left.

Emily F. Popek is a communications professional and writer living in upstate New York. She writes about the culture of parenting and education at thinkofthechildren.substack.com.

• I loved living and working in Belfast and took advantage of all the city had to offer for years.
• Eventually, I grew tired of the fast-paced, cramped feel of city living.
• I left the city to move to the quiet, coastal town of Bangor. I have more space, and I'm happier.

I moved to Belfast, one of Ireland's most bustling and famous cities, in 2010.

I was working my dream job with some of the greatest people in the industry on one of the biggest shows in the world, "Game of Thrones." Life was good and busy for years.

But after about a decade, the city's buzz started to fade, and I yearned for a slower pace of life.

Eventually, I found sanctuary by the sea in a quaint coastal town just 25 minutes from the outskirts of Belfast.

I loved city living for years until I got sick of the constant buzz

Belfast has everything you'd expect an Irish city to have — lots to do, tons of bars and restaurants, and super-friendly people.

I shopped in bespoke boutiques, ate at expensive restaurants, and drank in fancy cocktail bars while also attending parties and events.

Between my long days at work and social engagements, I rarely spent any time in my own home. Life was full-speed ahead, and I had little time for myself, family, or friends.

Although I was busy, I felt like I was living the dream and taking advantage of all Belfast had to offer. But after a few years, I felt like I'd maxed out on city living.

What had attracted me to Belfast started to push me away. Tired of the constant buzz of people, lights, and traffic, I began yearning for a slower pace of life.

In 2020, the coronavirus pandemic gave me the final push I needed to leave. For months, I found myself cooped up in my tiny city apartment with no outdoor space. Leaving my home wasn't much comfort since Belfast still felt as busy as ever to me.

As I walked past queues of people waiting 45 minutes just to buy groceries and local parks teeming with people, I felt my inner voice say, "If not now, when?"

I found sanctuary in an Irish seaside town

In 2021, I took the leap and abandoned city living to move to Bangor in County Down.

I had friends and family in the peaceful seaside town, plus I'd grown up next to a beach in Ireland — a part of me had always longed to return to the sanctuary of the sea.

When I drove up to my new house in Bangor, I felt a wave of tranquility wash over me. I didn't hit any traffic on the drive, something I rarely experienced in Belfast.

Going from a tiny apartment on a busy city street to a spacious home with luscious green trees, a garage, and a garden, felt like a dream come true.

Immediately, I embraced a slower pace of life. I installed a hot tub in my garden and started growing my own vegetables.

I wake up every morning to the sound of the Irish ocean lapping at the shore and visit the beach for daily walks so I can bask in the sea air.

I'm still grateful for my time in the city, but I feel much happier living in a town where my neighbors often stop to say hello and I don't have to struggle to find a parking space.

Plus, a 25-minute drive can still get me to Belfast if I ever crave a taste of the city.

I think anyone contemplating leaving a busy city for a quieter town nearby should give it a try, too. After all ... if not now, when?

• My husband and I left our stresses of living in Seattle behind by moving to the suburbs.
• The tech boom raised Seattle's cost of living, making it hard for us to afford a home in the city.
• Now we enjoy having a close-knit community — and easy access to the city.

Growing up in a small town, I always thought the city was where I belonged. I moved to Seattle for college and loved the energy, the culture, and the endless entertainment opportunities.

But after a few years of struggling with some realities of city living — constant traffic, astronomical rent, and the never-ending search for a parking spot — I started to feel burned out.

Although I enjoyed living in Seattle, I decided to move about an hour away to the suburbs of Washington.

Now, I have the best of both worlds: I'm close enough to enjoy the perks of the city but far enough to escape its headaches.

Seattle's tech boom has made it even more expensive to live there

Seattle's population has grown by about 20% in the past decade, in part thanks to companies like Amazon and Microsoft setting up headquarters in the area.

Unfortunately, the influx of high-paying tech jobs has also driven up the cost of living.

When I lived in Seattle, rental costs ate up a lot of my income — sometimes up to 50%. Plus, online rental marketplace Apartments.com suggests the average rent in Seattle is about 30% higher than the national average.

Since renting in Seattle was already expensive, buying a house in the city felt like a far-off dream for me and my husband.

One of the biggest advantages of moving an hour away from Seattle has been our ability to find nice places to live within our budget.

Once we left, we were able to buy a renovated single-family home on almost half an acre outside the city for about half the price something similar might have cost in Seattle.

I love dealing with less traffic — and finding parking is much easier now

The Seattle metro area has some of the worst congestion in the US — and the busy, crowded streets made living in the city stressful for me.

I regularly spent hours of my day creeping down the freeway at 5 mph.

Sometimes, I'd lose track of time circling the block to find a parking spot near my destination — and if I had to park in a garage or lot, I'd pay upward of $20 for just a couple of hours.

In my town east of the city, I can pull right into my driveway, and I never worry about finding a spot at the grocery store, which is only 10 minutes from my house during rush hour.

Life outside the city offered tranquility my younger self didn't know I'd need

My gripes with living in Seattle may seem small, but they've had a big impact on my life.

Now, we live on a quiet street where the towns of Covington and Maple Valley meet, and suburban life blends with nature. We have ample space for a garden and hiking and biking trails minutes away.

The sound of nonstop city traffic has been replaced by birds and the occasional neighbor mowing their lawn. When we take our dogs for a walk, we cross paths with more families and fellow dog walkers than cars.

Our close-knit community is a welcome change from the anonymity I often felt in Seattle. I like that we know our neighbors and often chat with each other, which felt tough to do in a big city.

Although we don't have as many restaurants and events in the burbs, I'm still close enough to Seattle to attend concerts and sporting events, visit museums, or meet up with friends for dinner and a show.

I miss the city sometimes, but I'm happy I've found what matters to me most at this stage of my life.

• I love many things about Florida, but after 11 years, I left to move back to the Midwest.
• My insurance costs in Florida were high and driving in our county felt dangerous and intense.
• I often let the state's many mosquitos, heat, and humidity deter me from going outside.

We first fell in love with Florida after visiting it on a family vacation in 1997.

After many more pleasant family vacations to the state, we left our hometown in Missouri and moved to Florida in early 2013.

We thought Jacksonville would be a good place to settle, as it was close to many Florida hot spots and great vacation cities in neighboring states.

It turns out, I'm much happier visiting Florida than living there full time. Here are a few things that led me to move back home to the Midwest after 11 years.

I didn't like driving in our county, and I often worried about my family's safety on the roads

Witnessing high-speed chases on the interstate, cars failing to yield, and trucks running red lights were part of our daily life in Jax.

Our county, in particular, has some of the deadliest roads in Florida.

I worried about my young daughter daily as she commuted to work on I-95. Although I trusted her as a driver, I was concerned about everyone else on the interstates and roads.

She'd often tell me about cars going well over the already high-speed limit and how drivers would regularly speed up instead of letting her over for her exit or lane merge.

A few months ago, she moved to a much smaller city in the Midwest, and I stopped worrying so much about her daily commute. I figure if she could manage in a place like Jax, she could drive anywhere.

Insurance felt like a huge part of my budget in Florida

No one likes to pay a monthly insurance premium, but the cost felt especially tough to stomach while I lived in Florida.

A MarketWatch analysis found that the average full-coverage car insurance cost in Florida was 42% higher than the national average.

The big kicker was finding out that I'd moved into a no-fault state. This means that no matter who's at fault in a collision, each driver has to rely on their own insurance to cover medical expenses and other financial losses.

Florida is also dealing with a home insurance crisis. Homeowners in many parts of the state struggle to keep up with sky-high premiums, especially after the recent hurricanes.

I'd often have to cut spending in other parts of my life just to cover my monthly high insurance costs. Now that I'm out of Florida, my monthly insurance expenses are lower, giving me breathing room to spend my money on more fun stuff.

I didn't love the high temperatures and humidity during the day

With sunlight beaming down most of the year, it's clear why Florida is known as the Sunshine State. During some summer months, Florida's average highs were above 90 degrees Fahrenheit.

I struggled to deal with the heat. Some may love it, but I found it could feel draining. With high humidity, the heat felt even worse. Jacksonville's average annual percentage of humidity can be a sweaty 72% or higher.

Unfortunately, the heat and humidity kept me from fully enjoying all the beautiful outdoor activities and attractions throughout Florida.

My naturally curly hair turned into a pile of frizz each time I stepped out of the front door — sometimes, I'd feel so self-conscious about it I'd just stay home.

Instead of participating in outdoor adventures throughout the area, I often chose to stay home in the air conditioning.

Lastly, I missed experiencing the variety of the seasons and the temperature drops that come with some of them. The Midwest's changing weather is a much better fit for me.

Mosquitoes were a huge nuisance to me at night

I also struggled to deal with mosquitoes when I lived in the Sunshine State. Although the pesky insects can be found in every state, Florida has more than most and over 80 species of them.

I seemed to be allergic to their bites, which would stay swollen on my body for days. Because of this, I didn't journey outside too much without first coating myself in bug repellent.

The repellent wasn't always super effective, so I eventually stopped going outside in the evenings to avoid getting bit.

Overall, I'm happier in the Midwest

I get why so many springbreakers and snowbirds are drawn to Florida. It has a lot of sunshine, natural beauty, and fun outdoor activities.

Still, for many reasons, I found it tough to fully enjoy the state and its beauty.

The Midwest is a better fit for me, and I'm glad I moved back. These days, I enjoy my slower-paced life in a state where I can feel the seasons change — and I no longer mind going outside so much.

• Since moving from DC to Denver two-and-a-half years ago, I've experienced many culture shocks.
• I've found people like to discuss their hobbies in Denver, but many focus on their careers in DC.
• I've also noticed that people in Denver seem more laid-back compared to those in DC.

When I boarded my flight from Washington, DC, to Denver in May 2022, I ruminated in my window seat for hours, wondering what my new home would be like.

I was leaving behind the nation's capital — the place where I'd spent almost three years launching my career and growing through my 20s.

Hopping from city to city wasn't new to me. I was born in Seattle and raised outside New Orleans before pursuing my master's degree in Phoenix.

However, every region has its own distinct culture, and I suspected the transition from the East Coast to the Rocky Mountains would be a little bumpy. Still, I didn't expect just how different the two parts of the country would be.

Here are a few of the biggest culture shocks I experienced when I headed west.

Many seem enamored with their hobbies in Denver, but careers typically come first in DC

Your choice of ski pass isn't just a question Denver residents will pose to you as an icebreaker. In my experience, it's a constant topic of conversation among friends and colleagues.

In fact, I've found that skiing, snowboarding, camping, hiking, rock climbing, and white-water rafting are topics that constantly come up in conversation.

I've met plenty of Denver residents with impressive careers, but their hearts often belong to their hobbies.

Meanwhile, many people I met in DC lived to work. I'd inevitably be asked what I did for a living at almost every house party I attended. Young professionals primarily move to DC for their education and careers, so networking is a way of life.

The city is packed with journalists, lobbyists, and government employees, so it's not uncommon to see someone toting a work laptop to happy hour.

The cities' definitions of style don't align

In DC, my favorite activity was ticking restaurants and bars off my list, taking in the cosmopolitan city in seasonal dresses and heels.

However, since moving to Denver, what's left of my collection of cocktail dresses is gathering dust on hangers. Here, athleisure, flannels, and denim are the norm.

The climates in Denver and DC are completely different beasts

I was adept at handling DC winters. When snow occasionally fell over the city, I bundled up in a coat and gloves to build snowmen on the National Mall or braced myself for the chill in the air when I exited a Metrorail subway station.

Preparing for my inaugural Colorado winter, however, was much more intense. I bought my first pair of snow boots at age 27, and learned that Halloween usually brings a snowstorm, and the flurries continue through April.

For context, according to the National Weather Service's data from 1882-2015, Denver averages about 57.1 inches of snow per season. DC's average snowfall, which is based on data from 1991-2020, is roughly 13.8 inches.

Local attitudes couldn't be more different

Colorado straddles two prominent regional personality traits — the Midwest's kindness and the West Coast's easygoingness. Residents of the Centennial State get the best of both worlds with their friendly attitudes and sense of ease.

Despite Denver's urban sprawl, niceties from its cow-town days persist. Walking down a neighborhood sidewalk, I can usually count on smiles or greetings from passersby.

However, while living on the East Coast, I found many DC residents exuded the region's no-nonsense air, buzzing from place to place as efficiently as possible.

I got used to avoiding small talk in elevators and found the standard attitude in DC was both a little guarded and direct. It's not that locals were unkind — they're just booked and busy.

Yet, both places have one thing in common: hometown pride. I'm excited to embrace that attitude in Denver like I did in DC.

• Robert Redford has listed his Tiburon, California, home for $4.15 million.
• The actor, 88, and his wife want to spend more time in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
• The couple has recently offloaded a wine-country estate in California and two Utah properties.

Robert Redford and his wife have put their secluded home outside San Francisco on the market for $4.15 million.

The actor, who starred in films "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" and "The Way We Were," was born in California and still owns property there but said in an email that he wants to spend more time in other parts of the West.

The roughly 2,824-square-foot home is located in Tiburon, California, a town across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco. The median listing price for homes in Tiburon is $3.3 million, according to Realtor.com.

Redford and his wife, artist Sibylle Szaggars Redford, bought the home in 2020 for $3.1 million, public records show. The couple also own another home in California, Sundance, Utah, and Santa Fe, New Mexico — where they primarily live.

"Sadly, we are not able to spend as much time in Tiburon as we would like, as we are now spending more time in Santa Fe, New Mexico," the Redfords said in an email. Santa Fe is home to Szaggars Redford's fine art gallery and an arts and conservation nonprofit the couple runs called The Way of the Rain.

Redford, who has said over the years that he values privacy, added that the Tiburon house appealed to him in part because of its location "on a quiet, unpaved cul-de-sac, which does not experience a lot of traffic."

In 2014, he told the Hollywood Reporter that he wanted to leave the congestion of his hometown of LA.

"I wanted to be away from Los Angeles because I felt it was going to the dogs," he said. "I was just getting more and more anxious about wanting out."

The couple has offloaded several properties over the last five years.

In 2019, they sold a Napa Valley home on 10 acres of wine-country land for $7 million. They still have another property in California, according to the Wall Street Journal.

Redford, who cofounded the Sundance Film Institute in Utah, has also sold two properties in the state: the 2,600-acre Sundance Mountain Resort and Horse Whisper Ranch. Szaggars Redford listed a separate cabin in Utah for $3.99 million earlier this year. Redford still owns a ranch near the resort.

The four-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bathroom home is nine miles from the Golden Gate Bridge.

The wood-shingled home was built in 1968.

The Redfords, who bought the house for $3.1 million in 2020, have put it on the market for $4.15 million.

The Redfords remodeled the interior of the home to give it a more coastal feel.

According to Compass, the brokerage representing the Redfords, the home's furniture and artwork are not included in the listing price but can be negotiated.

The house has 2,824 square feet inside and more than 1,000 square feet of outdoor decking.

The home has views of San Francisco Bay, Angel Island, Raccoon Straits, and the East Bay.

The home's lush surroundings make it feel like an oasis.

The home is surrounded by redwood trees, according to listing agent Steven Mavromihalis, and the gardens are perfect for lavender, jasmine, and succulents.

The split-level home is located on a quiet cul-de-sac off an unpaved dirt road.

The cottage is a short walking distance to the beach, hiking trails, restaurants, and three yacht clubs.

Even though it feels secluded, the house is not too far from San Francisco.

Tiburon has a population of under 10,000 residents, but the property is only a 40-minute car ride — or a 30-minute ferry ride — away from San Francisco.

• Former Illinois residents Jason and Jennifer Remillard dreamed of living a simple, debt-free life.
• The couple purchased a $50,000, 58-acre property in Maine in 2019 near the Canadian border.
• They turned two $12,000 Amish sheds into their home, connecting them with a custom-built hallway.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jason Remillard, 49, and his wife Jennifer Remillard, 55, who left the Chicago suburbs to retire on a Maine homestead.

They built their dream home out of two $12,000 Amish sheds, which are built one at a time using traditional techniques instead of mass-produced. The following conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

My wife Jen and I lived in a small town called Wauconda just outside of Chicago. Jen was a supervisor in the photo lab at Costco, and I was the director of quality and operations for a touchscreen manufacturer.

We were the typical American family. We'd sit down on the couch and we'd watch TV. Then we'd go to bed, and wake up. Rinse and repeat every day.

In about 2010, we decided that once all six kids were graduated and out of the house, we wanted to live an off-grid lifestyle and homestead. We spent 10 years preparing for the transition.

In January 2019, we found a piece of property in Maine on LandWatch.com. We flew up a week after we saw it, and hiked a mile and a half in knee-deep snow with our real-estate agent to look at it. We fell in love with it.

It's in the Houlton area of Maine, about three and half hours north of Portland. We're at the end of an unmaintained road on the Canadian border.

We paid $50,000 for 58 acres.

I loved the privacy of it. We only have a few neighbors within a mile of us.

We dreamed of a debt-free lifestyle off the grid

In June 2021, we sold our Wauconda home. We packed up our trailer and U-Haul, dropped our son off at the Marine Corps, and drove out here.

When we left Illinois, we wanted everything paid off. The property was $50,000, the vehicles were $40,000, the two Amish cabins were $24,000, and the solar panels were $12,000. Over four years, we put all that money aside so that when we stepped on the property in 2021 we didn't have to worry about anything.

It allows me to work two and half hours a day on the property and maintain this lifestyle without worrying about heavy debt. It's about being able to work on your home, work on improving your life, without spending two-thirds of your day at a job that you don't like.

It was really just a mad dash to figure out what the game plan was. We had no experience with this lifestyle. We made hundreds of to-do lists.

The first thing we had to do was mow the lawn. Then we worked on rebuilding the fence and had a gravel pad — a foundation for our homes — installed. We had to clean out the old shed that was on the property and fix up a temporary storage building.

It was just a lot of busy work. We installed solar panels so that we weren't running on a generator 24 hours a day. We had to cut enough firewood for the winter.

Being at the end of an unmaintained road, the Border Patrol informed us that our property was used as a "lovers lane," a place for young people to go and just mess around. So, we put up a fence along the road section of our property, just to let people know that we are actually living here now.

The Amish sheds give us flexibility for a permanent home

In 2020, when we had the property but were still living full-time in Illinois, we met one of our Maine neighbors on a trip. They were kind enough to invite us over and they showed us the Amish shed they had for their home. We weren't really sure what route we wanted for our forever home, but we saw theirs and just thought, "Hey, we could do this, too."

We reached out to Sturdi-Built Storage Buildings in Smyrna, Maine. We designed our own cabins, everything from where the windows are to where the doors are.

We're so glad we didn't go the log cabin route because these buildings are so incredibly versatile. Since we've had them, we've built a porch on one side. We're going to add a sun room to another side next year.

My first thought was to put them in an L shape. But then my concern was that the snow here in the winter. If I had my two cabins in an L shape, inside the L there would just be a massive pile of snow when it all slid off the roof.

If I were a professional carpenter, I could connect the two buildings at the roofline and make them look seamless like one building. But I'm not that guy. So, I built a small 5x5 hallway between the two buildings. It was the extent of my abilities, but it works fantastic.

When the cabins were delivered, they were just shells. The floor had insulation, but wasn't finished, and the walls were just 2x4s. There was no electrical, plumbing, or siding. We went through our first winter with no siding on our walls. We had to do everything. We spent around $10,000 making the two sheds into our home.

All of the hard work that Jen and I have done — I wouldn't trade that for anything.

If someone wants a big, elaborate place, the Amish shed probably isn't for you. This is for someone who wants a small footprint for their home. But they're adaptable to any environment, down south in Texas, out in Appalachia, up in Oregon, the Midwest, and, of course, here in Maine.

We've documented this journey on YouTube. It's to show people out there who aren't in their 20s that no matter how old you get, you can still follow your dreams.

• Patty Blue Hayes moved to Panama from California to save money as she approached retirement.
• However, she's struggled to find remote roles after losing her main source of income last year.
• She said side hustles like Airbnb, YouTube, and self-publishing have helped her pay the bills.

Patty Blue Hayes, 60, moved to Panama from California to save money as she approached retirement age, but unemployment is thwarting her plans.

Hayes moved from San Luis Obispo, California to El Valle de Anton, Panama, a town in central Panama, in 2019. Hayes thought Spanish — the country's official language — would be fairly easy to learn and chose the country because it used the US dollar and was "much more affordable" than California. An analysis previously shared with BI by the personal finance site GOBankingRates ranked California third in a list of the most expensive states to retire.

Hayes also hoped that living in Panama would make her money go further during her retirement years.

"I was 55 and knew that my income wasn't going to be sufficient as I got older and eventually retired," Hayes told Business Insider.

Hayes is among the Americans who have moved abroad in search of lower costs of living as they approach or enter retirement. As of December 2023, about 650,000 Americans age 65 or older were receiving Social Security benefits abroad, according to the most recently available data from the Social Security Administration. In 2003, that number was roughly 352,000.

When Hayes moved to Panama, she was an independent contractor who offered communication and leadership coaching for a professional training company. But near the end of 2022, she said her client list started to dwindle as her employer scaled back her program and prioritized other forms of coaching. In 2023, after the company was acquired, she said her program was effectively discontinued. Hayes, who has a bachelor's degree in communications, said she's been applying for jobs related to writing coaching, customer or client success, school admissions, and tutoring but hasn't had much luck.

"It really gets so discouraging when I spend so much time on applications and nothing comes of it," she said, adding, "Looking for work has been demoralizing."

Age and demand for remote roles add to job-search struggles

Hayes is also among the people who've struggled to find work over the past year as some companies have scaled back hiring.

She said her only income has come from a guest house she rents in Panama through Airbnb, her YouTube channel where she shares content about her life abroad, some self-published book sales via Amazon, and referral fees tied to leads she gave a real estate broker.

While this income has been helpful, Hayes said it hasn't been sufficient. She said that she's accumulated roughly $13,000 in credit card debt since the middle of 2022.

Hayes said she plans to start taking Social Security when she turns 62, but that she doesn't think it will be enough to live on. She hopes to avoid dipping into her retirement savings until she turns 70.

This is why she's continued to search for jobs. She estimated that she's applied to at least 150 jobs over the past year through Indeed, ZipRecruiter, LinkedIn, and other platforms.

Hayes said her job search has been difficult for several reasons. First, she's only been applying for remote roles, which are in high demand. Additionally, she hasn't applied for a work permit in Panama because she doesn't speak fluent Spanish and believes that would hinder her ability to land a high-paying job.

What's more, she said she doesn't have robust networking connections and only joined LinkedIn in the past year. She also has some concerns that her age is working against her.

Going forward, Hayes said she plans to continue looking for work but is spending more time trying to grow her YouTube channel while self-publishing books, which she hopes can be a source of income if her job search doesn't pan out. She also hopes to find individual clients for her coaching work. While she's uncertain when she'll be able to retire, she said she's optimistic about her financial situation.

"Overall, I feel very fortunate and I'm confident the finances will shift," she said, adding, "I'll just be very relieved when the money flows so I can pay off this credit card."

Has the economy affected the way you view or experience work? If so, reach out to this reporter at [email protected].

• When I moved from England to Florida 12 years ago, I found a few aspects of my new life strange.
• I was surprised by things like drive-thru banking and elaborate outdoor holiday displays.
• However, now that I'm acclimated to life in the States, I've grown to love these small luxuries.

Twelve years ago, I married my American husband and moved from York, England, to Florida.

Although I traveled through the US when I was younger and spent some time in Canada, I was initially puzzled by many aspects of American life.

However, now that I've been here for a while, I've grown to love many of the things I once found odd. Here are five aspects of life in Florida that I've grown to love.

I didn't realize how amazing drive-thru banking would be

Although there are some drive-thru banks in Europe, they're few and far between. And at first, I thought the concept was a bit lazy.

However, I came around to the idea when I was traveling in New England and experienced the freezing winter weather. And during my first Florida summer, it was nice to be able to stay in the air conditioning while I did my banking.

Turning right on red is a luxury

Not all states allow this traffic game changer, but Florida does. Turning right at a red light for the first time felt like getting away with something, as this convenient move generally isn't allowed in many European countries.

Fully accustomed to this upgrade, I probably couldn't drive in Europe now without racking up a stream of tickets.

The elaborate outdoor seasonal decor caught my attention

When I lived in England, a few twinkling lights and a rare lawn Santa typically signaled Christmastime. However, full-scale haunted-house Halloween decor and flags welcoming the Easter Bunny were new to me.

A little extra? Absolutely. However, they set the tone for the season, and I love it.

When it came time to vote in the US, I couldn't believe how many questions were on the ballot

Years ago, I cast my first vote as a US citizen in a presidential election. Then, I discovered lots of other questions on the ballot.

To vote in the UK, I'd draw my comically large X on a tiny piece of paper to answer the one and only question on it. Now I'm being asked about the best person to look after the local soil.

Having so much say in how your town is run is so fundamentally American — and a blessing I appreciate.

I now appreciate having ice in my drinks

In England, I rarely found drinks with ice. Since refills at many restaurants weren't free, watering drinks down with ice seemed almost sinful.

However, it didn't take long for me to appreciate this, living in the Sunshine State. Thanks to restaurants, in-house ice makers, and bags of the stuff at the supermarket, I've seen the light.

• I've moved multiple times over the past five years, including two international moves.
• I've learned a lot about decluttering and letting go of material things during this time.
• Now, my husband and I live a minimalist lifestyle.

There's nothing like a move to prompt a thorough decluttering session. An international move makes the mission even more pressing. Over the past five years, as I moved from Canada to the UK and back again, I've absolutely mastered the art of decluttering.

My first move was fairly easy. I'd been living in a shared rental with roommates, so I only needed to pack up my room. Still, before leaving, I remember weekly donation trips to thrift stores and endless posts to Facebook Marketplace trying to sell or give away what I couldn't take. After weeks of decluttering, I managed to condense my belongings into a single suitcase and carry-on.

My husband and I accumulated a lot of stuff together

The second time was much harder. I moved to the UK for love, and while there, I started building a home with my husband. Like any new couple moving into their first place, we had fun making it our own. I became obsessed with the clothing and decor stores that weren't available in Canada.

Over four years, our one-bedroom apartment became filled with cute vases, plant pots, decorative plates, funny mugs, fitness equipment, novelty games, and books that we never got around to reading. Our storage closet was a mini danger zone with its haphazard stacks of boxes and containers — think Monica Geller's closet of shame in "Friends."

An international move forced us to pare down yet again

In 2022, my husband and I decided to return to Canada for a calmer pace of life and easier access to nature. We'd been living in the bustling post-industrial Birmingham, where he was from, while I was from the more relaxed, coastal city of Vancouver. We gave ourselves just under a year to plan the move and pack up our lives again.

Remembering how long it took me to declutter and pack before moving the first time around, I began the process five months before our official move. I had grown attached to many of my new belongings, but I had to be honest with myself about their practicality. There's only so much you can fit into a suitcase.

I started with my wardrobe, purging impulse purchases and seldom-worn items. I was left with a streamlined capsule wardrobe that's still serving me well a year and a half after my return to Canada; it all fit into a carry-on and a checked bag, much like what I brought with me when I first arrived in the UK.

The home goods were harder to deal with. I didn't want to let go of everything because starting from scratch is expensive. I had to get rid of the bigger pieces, like plant pots, and generic items like dinnerware.

We shipped over a box with a handful of decor pieces we really liked (along with our winter coats), but otherwise, all we had with us was two checked pieces of luggage and our carry-ons when we got to the airport. However, I'm embarrassed to say we didn't manage to get rid of everything; our landlords messaged us to let us know we had left behind a few trinkets in the cupboards.

Our move made me realize just how easy it is to accumulate things you don't really need. Since we've been back in Canada, we've adopted a minimalist lifestyle and have been very selective with what enters our home. And we've never felt more at peace.

We're in another one-bedroom apartment, but now, we're without a storage closet to dump our clutter into. Although we're not planning on moving abroad again, I live with the mindset that I might at any given time — how easily would I be able to pack up my life again if I needed to? With our current streamlined wardrobes and practical selection of home goods, I'd like to think we wouldn't need another six months to declutter if the occasion arises again.

• Florida is one of the most popular destinations for people moving from one US state to another.
• New census data shows that many more people moved into Florida than left between 2022 and 2023.
• The number of people leaving is up over issues such as rising costs and natural disasters.

When Derek Edwards was living in Wisconsin and Colorado, he often traveled to the Caribbean via Florida.

He liked his layovers so much that he decided to move to Miami when he was 28. Edwards, a teacher, said the weather has been worth it even if rent and groceries are more expensive.

"It's just beautiful," he told Business Insider earlier this year. "Just in case I don't stay in Florida forever, I'm going to go to the beach as much as I can."

Drawn by the balmy climate, numerous outdoor activities, and more, hundreds of thousands of movers like Edwards choose Florida every year. Census data released on October 17 indicates that between 2022 and 2023, nearly 637,000 people moved to Florida from another state, while nearly 511,000 left the Sunshine State for somewhere else in the US.

Those estimates come from the Census Bureau's release on state-to-state migration flows based on results from the 2023 American Community Survey. The annual survey asks, among many demographic and economic topics, whether respondents moved in the past year and, if so, which state they used to live in.

The net inflow during this period, however, was not as dramatic as in the previous year. From 2021 to 2022, nearly 739,000 people moved to Florida, while almost 490,000 left for another state.

Florida leavers have told BI in interviews that they are motivated by various factors, including increasing insurance costs, a rising cost of living overall, and the increasing intensity of natural disasters.

Read on for an analysis of where movers to Florida came from, based on census estimates — and where Sunshine State leavers headed for greener pastures.

New Yorkers continue flocking to Florida

New Yorkers still move to Florida in droves.

The New York-to-Florida route taken by over 71,000 people was the second-most-popular route for all movers within the US between 2022 and 2023 — behind only California to Texas. Still, it's a big drop from the 91,000 movers from New York to Florida between 2021 and 2022.

Many New Yorkers flee south in search of a cheaper life and better weather, though SmartAsset's analysis of IRS tax data found those who made the move in 2023 didn't save as much as those in previous years.

Most still do save money: Someone making $100,000 in New York could save $37,166 yearly in Miami in 2023, compared with the $51,273 they might have saved in 2019, SmartAsset found. This is partly due to Florida's rising utilities and housing costs.

Nearly 44,500 people moved from Georgia to Florida between 2022 and 2023 — even though about 55,000 people moved from Florida to Georgia, likely driven by Georgia's relatively lower cost of living.

Over 39,000 left California for Florida in that same period. Some people who moved out of the Golden State told BI their decisions were due to rising costs and shifting politics. Terry Gilliam, who moved from California to Florida over weather and political concerns, has started Facebook groups helping others make similar moves, which have attracted almost 300,000 members in total.

People who move out of Florida tend to stay in the South

Like in last year's release, Georgia was the most-popular state for those leaving Florida.

Some former Florida residents who moved to Georgia have said they wanted a similar climate but needed to leave as the Sunshine State became more expensive and commercialized. Others cited skyrocketing home-insurance costs.

• We left our stressful careers in the music industry in Nashville to have an "adult gap year."
• We spent a year traveling through Europe to find the joy and balance our lives had been missing.
• We fell in love with València, Spain, on our trip and have since moved there.

My wife and I spent over a decade working in Nashville's music industry before we decided to step off of the corporate ladder.

We met while working at different record labels, and there were many things we enjoyed about our jobs — traveling to new places, attending industry events, and seeing artists we believed in grow from small showcases to arenas.

But as the years went by, the constant grind began to take its toll.

We were traveling every weekend, juggling endless projects, and attending frequent late-night events, all while trying to maintain our personal lives. Eventually, the burnout became impossible to ignore.

It wasn't just the demanding schedule that had us rethinking our future. The political climate in the US, particularly in Tennessee, added to our sense of unease. Nashville, which had once felt like home, no longer seemed like the right place for us.

We knew we needed a change — something that would allow us to reset and rediscover what we really wanted out of life.

That's when our idea to do an "adult gap year" started to take shape.

We didn't take the decision to leave our jobs for travel lightly

For our "adult gap year," we decided to step away from our jobs and lives to travel for 12 months. We knew it was risky to take mid-career breaks and quit stable jobs, but we were fortunate enough to have some financial flexibility.

Both of us had bought homes in Nashville long before the real-estate boom, so they were worth more than we'd paid.

Selling my wife's house gave us the resources we needed to fund a year of travel and a down payment on a home wherever we decided to land.

Leaving behind the lives we'd built in Nashville was scary, but it felt right for us. So, we packed up our belongings, grabbed our one-eyed rescue dog, and set off on our adventure.

With no clear destination in mind, we spent the next year exploring Europe

Our travels initially focused on Portugal and Spain.

We stayed in bustling town centers and quiet beach towns, sampling local cuisines, wandering through centuries-old cathedrals, and getting lost in the winding streets of ancient cities.

Each place had its own unique charm, but one stood out above the rest: València, Spain. When we arrived, it didn't take long for us to fall in love.

València's sunny beaches, vibrant city center, leisurely paella lunches, and sense of calm made it feel like the place we'd been searching for — one we were meant to call home.

We continued our travels across France, Montenegro, Greece, Albania, Ireland, and England — but València kept calling to us.

We're now living in Spain and happily getting settled

By the end of our year abroad, we decided to settle in València and apply for residency so we could officially make Spain our home.

As we settle into our new life, we're also transitioning back to work, this time remotely and with a fresh outlook.

For many people, the idea of walking away from a career and moving abroad seems impossible, something only to consider in retirement. But we didn't want to wait and maybe regret it later.

Our gap year wasn't just about escaping burnout — it was about rediscovering what truly mattered to us. We wanted to experience joy, have work-life balance, and live life on our own terms.

Our risk paid off, and we found the balance and fulfillment our lives had been missing all along.

• I'm Australian but spend part of the year in New Orleans, and there's been some culture shock.
• American coffee isn't exactly my style, and biscuits are something totally different in the US.
• I easily got a driver's license in the US, which is good since there are drive-thrus everywhere.

Long before my first visit to New Orleans, I fell in love with the US city's historic culture. As an Australian, I never thought I'd get to call The Big Easy home, but now, I split my year living between the two countries.

Adjusting to life in New Orleans was an eye-opening experience, full of unexpected surprises and plenty of head-scratching moments.

Here are some of the biggest culture shocks I've encountered as an Aussie in the US.

I'm still getting used to American coffee

I never realized just how serious Australians, especially Melburnians, are about their coffee. I'm used to a certain standard and flavor.

Luckily, there are a handful of places that serve great coffee in the States — but I emphasize the word "handful."

After five years, it still astounds me to see Americans embrace sugary, syrup-filled drinks that barely resemble what I consider coffee.

Additionally, I can't believe drip coffee is still a thing here. It's a rarity where I'm from in Australia.

I thought it was way easier to get a driver's license in the US

In Australia, getting my driver's license was a drawn-out process involving learner's permits, over 120 hours of logged driving with a licensed driver, and a strict test.

In the US, getting my license felt like a breeze by comparison. I just had to sit in a theory class for a few hours and then spend eight hours behind the wheel with an instructor.

After that, my test was driving around the block, parking, using my turn signal, and boom, I had my license. The ease was both impressive and a little scary, considering they were letting me drive on what was recently the wrong side of the road to me.

The rules around getting licenses vary from state to state, and many Americans under the age of 18 have to undergo a more formal course/testing process. But I'm still shocked by how different my two experiences were.

I'm still getting used to linguistic differences around food

Navigating the language differences between the US and Australia, especially with food, is like playing a guessing game.

Imagine my surprise when I ordered biscuits for the first time in the US and got something more closely resembling scones. I was expecting what I now know to call a cookie.

I wonder if I'll ever stop ordering some chips and realizing too late that I should have said "fries." In Australia, both fries and chips are called chips — we just differentiate by saying "hot chips" for fries.

Things also get lost in translation with my accent

My Australian accent has caused some wild misunderstandings in the US.

From getting "Greary" written on my coffee cup instead of "Ree" to a drive-thru worker at Taco Bell thinking I was attempting to order pizza when I just said, "I have a mobile order," it's a daily game of "Guess What I Said."

It keeps things entertaining, to say the least, and it's also why I love being able to order via an app whenever I can.

Southern food has been a culinary awakening

New Orleans cuisine is an adventure for the taste buds. I've learned to embrace savory grits (I'd usually add sugar and eat them as porridge back home), and I've grown to love gumbo's rich flavors.

I fell in love with Southern food shortly after my arrival in the States. Still, walking into a whole new world of gastronomy was an adjustment.

There are some dishes — like white beans — that I just can't make my palate enjoy, and I have days when I long for the local fish-and-chip shop back home.

There's a drive-thru for everything in New Orleans

In New Orleans — and in many cities in the US — you can pull through the drive-thru for pretty much everything, from coffee shops to bars.

The strange looks I got from locals while taking a photo of a drive-thru bank for friends back home were amusing, and the concept of picking up a daiquiri to-go felt wild to me at first.

Now, I'm kind of hooked. It's the ultimate lazy convenience.

Americans use so much ice

Compared to what I'm used to in Australia, everything is supersized in the US. A "small" soda feels like a bucket to me.

However, I really don't understand why Americans love their drinks filled to the brim with ice.

Once you take that out, there's hardly any liquid, no matter how big the cup is.

Tipping culture is so confusing to me

The first time I came to the US, my biggest worry wasn't getting through immigration or having the right documents — it was tipping.

It sounds silly now, but I still find the practice of figuring out what percentage of my total I should leave behind confusing.

In Australia, tipping service workers isn't expected, and base wages are typically higher.