The Big Fat 21st Century Lie
Why So Many are Looking Abroad for the Life They Were Promised (Part A)

The other day, I was completing some backend tasks for my podcast when I stumbled upon a family on YouTube with a story parallel to mine. In the spring of 2022, they packed up their seemingly perfect lives in Southern Ontario—a place I know well—and moved to Mexico. At the same time, my family and I left Canada for Belize.
In their early videos, they describe a restlessness; a sense that something was off or missing. I knew that feeling well. Their disquiet echoed something I'd felt for years:
We'd been sold a lie about what makes a good life.
Furthermore, their story, like mine, wasn't about chasing palm trees and sunsets; it was about breaking free from a system that no longer made sense.
But what exactly is that uneasiness, that "something" that is off? Is it a disillusionment with the modern "work-life balance"? A subconscious pull toward something more primal, adventurous, or free? Or is it a reaction to a collapsing system, one we've grown up believing in, despite the evidence that it no longer serves us?
Realistically, it's all of the above.
The Feeling That Something's Off
You don't need a PhD in economics, politics or sociology to know when a system isn't working. But mentioning it stirs a reaction. When I promoted a recent podcast episode with the pseudonymous
, a few Facebook group members came out swinging:"Stop listening to this BS, there is no mass relocation happening out of the US…This article is just propaganda to get clicks and likes so they can make money off YouTube."
And,
"There is no 'American exodus"! And Belize is no cheaper than living in America."1
When I asked them for evidence to the contrary, there was silence. No data. Not even a reply.
So, let's talk data.
According to a Harris Poll from February 2025, titled the American Expat Survey, "Roughly four in 10 Americans have considered or plan to move abroad and believe that by doing so, it could lead to greater happiness." The report also revealed that 52% of participants believe they can live a higher quality of life abroad, with 49% citing "lower costs as the primary reason for making the jump, and a further 86% expressing the search for "a more affordable cost of living as the most important factor." Those aren't fringe numbers. And it's not just America. It's worldwide. Belize, for example, has become home to a diverse range of foreigners, including not just Canadians and Americans, but also South Africans, Brits, Taiwanese, and others.2
While this was an American survey, I don't doubt that the numbers would reflect a similar trend in Canada. For people like me and the couple on YouTube, our desire to leave is a direct result of realizing that the tailor-made life in North America, which our parents were able to optimize, has thoroughly eroded.
A System Built for a Different Generation
The pushback I've received stems from a fundamental misunderstanding of the current system. Many, especially those of the Boomer generation, can't fathom why anyone would want to leave. While my mom has been understanding and accepting of my decision, my dad is thoroughly dumbfounded, and I can understand it. He came of age during a post-war economic boom. His generation succeeded in rebuilding everything the Second World War had destroyed, and they profited greatly from it.
The reality now? The world he thrived in—affordable housing, inexpensive education and stable employment—no longer exists. Yet, the ease of living they experienced blurs their vision of the present, so they continue to push the rhetoric that the life path they took is a failsafe against the modern socioeconomic challenges and the only path to prosperity.
Now, I'm not saying the Boomers had it easy. I realize they lived through a significant financial crisis and recession in the early 1980s, during which interest rates skyrocketed. Yet, markets swing; it's a fact of life. No one is immune to them, and I've now experienced two major recessions in my working life.3 Yes, interest rates remained low in comparison, but we now face other pressing factors, such as debt. My generation and the ones we push up against are the most indebted in history. In 1980, the ratio of household debt to personal disposable income in Canada was 66%. By 2015, the ratio had exceeded 150%, and now it stands at 185%, with 75% of this being mortgage-based.
That's staggering.
Nowadays, the only means to homeownership for most people is through debilitating debt. No wonder people want out. To put things into perspective, my dad, when he was not much older than I am now, purchased his home4 with a mortgage from his employer at zero-percent interest. An interest-free mortgage! Can you fuckin' believe that!?
On top of the 'we-had-it-made' cake, also perched a real estate market with prices that were one-ninth of what they are today.
Before you say, "people made less back then," I'll say, yes…but only sort of. According to Samuel Lichtman, a millennial financial advisor catering to millennials, "If income had kept up with home prices, then the median income today would be around $233,000. That income level today would put you in the top 2% of income earners in Canada."
The preceding generations not only face higher costs and a greater debt load but also earn less.
Clearly, people are leaving, and with good reason; the Boomer-era prosperity is long gone, and probably nobody will have it that good again.
Now, I don't mean for this to be a diatribe against Boomers; I'm attempting to reveal that the world in which they prospered and the one we've been led to believe is the path to success no longer exists.
The Housing Trap and Its Fallout
I was fortunate enough to enter the real estate industry at a young age, during a period of price inflation. Yet, it came with a stroke of luck. In my mid-twenties, I won a small sum of money in a cancer foundation lottery, and combining it with a small inheritance my wife (at the time) had received, we could afford a down payment on a condo in downtown Toronto.5 While this gave us more flexibility than most of my friends, we were barely staying ahead of the curve with the advantage.
Even with that unexpected spring into the market, real estate prices moved fast. I attempted to keep abreast by renovating and reselling a series of houses before my marriage ended in separation and divorce. By 2020, when my current wife and I were looking to purchase a 107-year-old Victorian gut-job,6 housing costs had risen to nearly half a million dollars for an entry-level home in a gentrifying municipality on Toronto's periphery.
I had a good job, yet getting a mortgage for that house was challenging; I fell prey to B lenders after the A banks rejected my income statements. I had incorporated my sole proprietorship less than two years before submitting my mortgage application, and therefore, "didn't have enough consecutive years of income" to qualify for a decent rate. I'd been self-employed for nearly 14 years at that point, and was doing quite well for myself.
Ironically, the distinction between an incorporated business and a self-employed person was debatable. For the opposite reason, the GOC denied me paternity leave benefits when my second son was born into the NICU and I needed an extended absence from work. I was an employee of my company and contributed to the government employment insurance. However, they informed me that I was ineligible because I owned the company and was therefore considered self-employed.
None of it made sense.
A Contemporary Problem
The housing crisis we face today isn't only about cost; it's also about availability. There are simply too few homes to go around, and the laws of supply and demand push the price of available homes higher—a problem that earlier generations never faced. Part of this is due to the Boomer generation staying in their homes long term, but it's also the result of an increase in the number of homes purchased by investors.7 This figure currently sits around 28% of all housing purchases in Canada and the US. To put all this into perspective, a brief Google search revealed that "the percentage of homes owned by corporations in 1980 was negligible, estimated to be less than 1%."
I've seen it firsthand; both of my brothers have owned multiple properties at one time. At one point, one of them even had seven other homes in addition to their primary residence. He did well with it, and I can't blame him for his ambition and drive to provide a good life for his family. However, I question how such endeavours contribute to the lack of housing and the rise in property costs. I'm not an economist, but given the Government of Canada's struggle to keep up with housing demand, limiting one mortgage per person may be a good starting point in addressing the issue.
Therefore, home ownership and housing costs became a significant factor in my decision to move abroad. The thought of carrying a 30-year mortgage was dreadful, disempowering and defeating, especially with my bent-over-a-barrel rate. The dream of being mortgage-free in Canada seemed so far off, and I was one of the lucky ones; I owned my home. For many, including the hardworking young people I employed in my residential contracting business, that dream was only in pipe form; if they allowed themselves to dream about it at all.
It's no wonder the Harris Poll reported that "68% feel that they are surviving more than thriving."
I get that.
Why More of Us Are Saying "Enough"
The system sucks, straight up, and the thought of exiting it greatly appealed to me. However, the harsh reality is that you are stuck in it, unless you choose to take a bold step, such as uprooting yourself with a move abroad, which can provide a viable option to regain that sense of thriving. Such an act can offer a personal solution to the North American housing problem. For my family and me, Belize allowed us to step out of that deeply entrenched and broken system. After witnessing the affordability of land in Belize (which, admittedly, has increased substantially since then), we were hooked. The thought of being mortgage-free before the age of 40 sparked a 'what if' that we couldn't ignore, and became one of the reasons we couldn't shake the idea of starting a new life there. So, for half of what the average cost of a home was where we used to live, we moved, purchased a lot8 and built a house, steps from the Caribbean Sea at that.
We can see, hear and smell the water.
What kind of premium would you have to pay for that type of water access in Canada? Forget about it!
Oh, that house we sold in Ontario? It now rents for the low-low price of $2,975 per month, not including the separate basement unit. That rent could get you a seaside home in Belize. No wonder people want out.
That Familiar Feeling
That restless feeling beneath the surface of my seemingly perfect Canadian life? It was the inherent instability of a long-entrenched system that many believe they need to be part of to achieve success in life. It was an uneasiness stemming from the need to rely on a system that I subconsciously knew no longer served me.
Belize is by no means perfect. However, it has provided us with something Canada no longer could:
A sense of agency and freedom in our lives.
I know not everyone can, or wants to do what we did. And, I recognize our privilege in being able to do so. But the broader truth remains:
The traditional life path is increasingly unattainable.
It's not that people don't want to work hard. It's that the system no longer rewards hard work the way it used to.
And that's why more of us are looking abroad for alternatives.
—
This post is Part A of a two-part essay and the first in a larger series I'm calling A Foreign Shift. In Part B, I'll explore why the traditional models of education and employment represent another disconnect from our lived reality and how autodidactism, remote work, digital tools, and shifting values are creating new possibilities for living and working abroad.
The remainder of the series will cover the messy, yet meaningful, journey of expatriate life, from the decision to leave and the disillusionment that follows, to the personal transformation that unfolds when you stop running from your problems and start embracing them. These essays won't provide a step-by-step guide, but will offer hard-won truths, practical insights, and a deeper look into what it means to live life on your terms in a world that constantly pushes you toward someone else's.
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Thanks for reading!
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I'm not sure why the second commenter brought up living costs in Belize; evidence that he neither read the post thoroughly nor watched the podcast episode—this is typical of Facebook trolls, mind you. But, now that we are on the topic, for those wondering if Belize is cheaper than the US, the answer is undoubtedly yes, and I have the data to prove it.
Perhaps fitting to the theme of multiculturalism in Belize, the emerging community of foreigners here is equally diverse.
The first, in 2008, was sparked by the subprime mortgage crisis in the US, and the second was kicked off by the world-disrupting and corrupting force we now call COVID-19.
A home they still live in, which is now 4- 5 times the price they paid for it ~40 years ago.
My oldest brother, a real estate agent, also helped by waiving his commission, thereby bolstering our offer by saving the seller fees.
Ostensibly a piece of shit according to a home insurance quote I recieved at the time. At least I had the skills and expertise to fix it up, which saved a lot of money.
In this case, an investor is a corporation, business, or homeowner who buys more than one home with the intention of generating income.
Seven times the size of our previous property, I should add, and our last property was considered quite large by conventional residential standards.
Thanks again for your perspective. A fellow Canadian, my husband and I left Canada in October 2020 immediately following my retirement. Both then retired, yet our combined pensions would not allow us to live comfortable at all in Canada. In any case, we were quite tired of snow and eager to go south! South ended up being here, in the Cayo, in Belize.
No regrets, or at least none that have to do with Belize. We love it here.
Loved reading your perspective on the realities of younger generations not being able to afford a home, or a sense of feeling secure. My husband and I are both boomers, although I was born in 1963 the last year of the boomer generation. It’s 4 am here in Belize right now, so I didn’t feel up to subscribing, but I will definitely do so when I’m coherent.