You’ve probably seen the videos. Someone is sipping a three-euro espresso in a sun-drenched plaza in Lisbon, or maybe they’re showing off a sprawling villa in Bali that costs less than a studio apartment in Boise. The caption usually says something like "POV: You finally left the US." It looks effortless. It looks like a dream. But if you’re actually sitting at your desk wondering, should I flee the US, you need more than a filtered reel. You need to know what happens after the jet lag wears off and the tax bills arrive.
Moving abroad isn't just about escaping. It's about where you're going and, more importantly, if they’ll even have you.
People are restless. I get it. Between the soaring cost of healthcare, political polarization that feels like a permanent headache, and the sheer price of a head of lettuce, the exit door looks tempting. According to data from the Association of Americans Resident Overseas (AARO), there are roughly nine million US citizens living abroad. That’s a massive number. It’s almost the population of New Jersey living in other people's countries. But "fleeing" implies a quick getaway, and unless you have a second passport tucked in a drawer, the reality is a mountain of paperwork.
The residency trap that most people ignore
Thinking about should I flee the US often starts with a map and a fantasy. But the world doesn't have an open-door policy for Americans just because we have a blue passport. You can’t just show up in Florence and decide to stay forever. Most countries in the Schengen Area only let you stay for 90 days out of every 180. Stay day 91? You’re an illegal immigrant.
To stay longer, you need a visa. And visas are hard.
Take Spain’s Digital Nomad Visa, for example. It sounds like a dream for remote workers. However, you have to prove a specific income level—usually around 200% of the Spanish national minimum wage—and deal with a bureaucratic system known as extranjería that can be soul-crushingly slow. Then there’s the "Beckham Law" tax regime, which is great if you qualify, but most people don't.
Passive income and the "Golden Visa" decline
For a while, the answer to should I flee the US was simple: buy your way out. Portugal’s Golden Visa was the gold standard. You bought a house, you got residency. Simple. But things changed. Because of a massive housing crisis in Lisbon and Porto, the Portuguese government scrapped the real estate investment path for the Golden Visa in 2023. You can still get in via venture capital funds or cultural donations, but the "cheap house" shortcut is dead.
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Italy has the elective residency visa. It's meant for retirees or people with deep pockets who don't need to work. You cannot work a local job on this visa. You can’t even work remotely for a US company in many cases, depending on how the local consulate interprets the rules that day. If you don't have a passive income of at least $35,000 to $40,000 a year, Italy might tell you to keep walking.
The tax man follows you everywhere
This is the part that really kills the "fleeing" vibe. The United States is one of only two countries in the entire world—the other being Eritrea—that uses citizen-based taxation.
If you live in Tokyo, earn Yen, pay Japanese taxes, and never step foot on US soil, the IRS still wants a phone call. You still have to file.
You might not owe money thanks to the Foreign Earned Income Exclusion (FEIE) or Foreign Tax Credits, but the paperwork is a nightmare. As of 2024, the FEIE limit is $126,500. If you earn more than that, or if you’re self-employed and have to navigate the tangled web of SECA taxes, you might end up paying both countries.
And don't even get me started on FBAR. If you have more than $10,000 in foreign bank accounts at any point during the year, you have to report it to FinCEN. Fail to do it? The penalties are astronomical. I’ve talked to expats who spent $2,000 on a specialized accountant just to prove they didn't owe any money. It’s a recurring "exit fee" for being American.
Is the grass actually greener or just a different shade of brown?
When people ask should I flee the US, they’re usually looking for a better quality of life. But quality of life is subjective.
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- Healthcare: Yes, in much of the EU, healthcare is a right, not a privilege. But wait times for specialists in the public system can be months. In the UK, the NHS is under incredible strain. Many expats end up buying private insurance anyway, which is still cheaper than the US, but it isn't "free."
- Cost of Living: Mexico City is beautiful, but "digital nomad inflation" has made parts of Roma and Condesa more expensive than some US suburbs. Locals are being priced out, which creates a tension that you, as the "fleeing" American, will represent.
- Social Isolation: Living in a country where you don't speak the language is exhausting. Ordering coffee is easy. Arguing with a plumber about a leaked pipe in broken French at 2:00 AM is how you find out if you’re actually cut out for this.
Culture shock isn't just about food. It's about the "unspoken rules." In Germany, if you mow your lawn on a Sunday, your neighbors might actually call the police. In Japan, the concept of wa (harmony) means your direct, American "tell it like it is" attitude might make you a social pariah in a week.
The "Climate Refugee" factor
A newer reason for wondering should I flee the US is the climate. If you’re in Phoenix and it’s 115 degrees for thirty days straight, or you’re in Florida and insurance companies are fleeing the state faster than you can pack, moving seems logical.
But where do you go?
Canada has tightened its immigration rules significantly. Moving to the "Global North" is becoming a privilege for the highly skilled or the very wealthy. Europe is dealing with its own record-breaking heatwaves and droughts. The Rhine River in Germany has dropped so low in recent years that commercial shipping struggled. Spain is facing desertification in the south. There is no perfect, weather-proof bunker.
The psychological cost of leaving
Leaving home is a trauma. Even if you hate the politics and the prices, you’re leaving your "village."
The "flee" instinct is a fight-or-flight response. But flight ends in a landing. When you land, you’re still you. You still have your anxieties, your habits, and your baggage. Only now, you’re 5,000 miles away from your best friend and your mom. Loneliness is the number one reason expats return to the US within two years. They call it "the failure to launch," but really, it's just the realization that community matters more than cheap rent.
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How to actually decide if you should leave
If you’re serious, stop browsing Zillow for houses in Sicily. Start with a spreadsheet. Honestly.
First, look at your career. Does your company allow "work from anywhere"? Many don't for tax and data security reasons. If you lose your job, can you get another one in your host country? Most local salaries in places like Portugal or Greece are a fraction of what you’d make in the US. A mid-level marketing manager in Lisbon might make €1,800 a month. That’s about $1,950. Can you live on that?
Second, check your ancestry. This is the "secret" door. If your great-grandparents were from Ireland, Italy, Poland, or several other EU countries, you might be eligible for citizenship by descent (jure sanguinis). This is the holy grail. It gives you an EU passport, which means you can live and work anywhere in the 27 member states without a visa. It’s a long process—sometimes years—but it’s the most stable way to "flee."
Third, do a "trial run" that isn't a vacation. Go to your target city for two months. Don't stay in a hotel. Rent an Airbnb in a boring residential neighborhood. Go to the grocery store. Figure out how to use the bus. Pay a utility bill. If you still like it when it’s raining and you’re frustrated because the pharmacy is closed for a three-hour lunch break, then you might be onto something.
Practical steps for the "Should I Flee the US" dilemma
Deciding to move is a massive undertaking that requires more than just a gut feeling. If the urge to leave is persistent, you need a logistical roadmap.
- Audit your "Ancestry": Check the citizenship laws of your ancestors' home countries. Italy, for example, has no limit on how many generations back you can go as long as the ancestor was alive after 1861 and didn't naturalize elsewhere before the next person in line was born.
- Get a Tax Consult: Talk to a CPA who specializes in "US Expat Taxes." Do not skip this. You need to understand the exit tax (if you're ultra-wealthy) and the ongoing filing requirements.
- The 6-Month Savings Rule: Whatever you think it will cost to move, triple it. You’ll need "moving-in" costs, which in many countries involves paying 3-6 months of rent upfront because you have no local credit score.
- Language Immersion: Start learning the language today. Not tomorrow. Today. Pimsleur, Babbel, a local tutor—whatever it takes. Moving to a country without the language is like living life in 2D.
- Health Records: Get a full physical and copies of all medical records. Navigating a foreign medical system is easier when you have your history documented and translated.
The question of should I flee the US isn't one that has a universal answer. For some, it’s the best thing they’ll ever do—a chance to slow down and live a life focused on experience rather than consumption. For others, it’s an expensive mistake that proves the US, for all its glaring flaws, is still the place they call home.
Don't run from something. Run to something. There's a huge difference in the outcome. If you're running away, the problems usually find you. If you're running toward a specific culture, language, or lifestyle that you genuinely love, the hurdles of visas and taxes become just another part of the adventure.
The world is big, but it isn't easy. If you're ready for the work, the exit is right there. Just make sure you read the fine print first.