Early 2024 was fairly routine on the surface, but cracks were beginning to form that were becoming difficult to ignore. My husband Chuck and I were working at Nike—a place that was fun on the surface but definitely had its fair share of corporate blahs. Moreover, Nike was an uneasy place to work at the time, with layoffs and turmoil sitting right under the surface, causing an underlying sense of anxiety in both of us. Chuck and I were in our 2nd and 3rd stints respectively at Nike, a company with a sort of revolving door when it comes to employment. The rat race, and playing the corporate game, was wearing thin on both of us, more and more as the years progressed, something like compound interest in a savings account, except way less fun.
We lived in what I playfully refer to as “Perfectville,” a beautiful suburb of Portland, Oregon, near the Nike Campus, with everything a family in pursuit of the “American Dream” could ask for. Friendly neighbors, manicured lawns, nice schools, block parties, a community pool, and all of the doodle-mix pups you could possibly experience on one walk across the expansive greenspace outside our back gate, including our own perfect little toy poodle, Oreo. But Perfectville comes at a cost…
Living and working in high-cost areas is like trying to run a marathon in high heels—doable, but not without a fair amount of discomfort. The $22 burger and $10 latte, after a while, just start to piss you off and before you know it, you rarely enjoy going anywhere out of the house, or God-forbid, weekend trips at the beach. For us, we weren’t struggling to make ends meet, but honestly, we were just over it. Everything on the West Coast seemed to cost a small fortune, from housing to groceries to the privilege of grabbing a cup of coffee that looked like it belonged in an art gallery. Sure, there were benefits—good jobs, decent perks, and the occasional moment when it all felt worth it—but the endless price tags wore us down. It’s like life was constantly whispering, “You can have this shiny, perfect existence… for a big fat fee that’ll make you weep every time you turn around.”
You start to wonder if you’re working to live or just living to work so you can afford the next overpriced avocado toast. Add in the absurdity of paying top dollar for things that should be simple—like parking your car or fixing a leaky faucet—and it all starts to feel a little ridiculous. We weren’t sinking, but we also weren’t enjoying the swim as much as we used to. Eventually, even the most beautiful view can’t justify how much the lifeboat costs. It was time to trade in the perpetual grind for something simpler, a life where essentials didn’t always feel like luxuries and we could stretch our legs—and our wallets—a bit more freely.
This isn’t a sob story, it’s just setting the scene to answering the question, “Why are you moving to Portugal?”, a question we have addressed every day since the day we made the decision to embark on this major life pivot.
Chasing the American Dream isn’t just expensive—it’s downright exhausting. All that hustle can grind anyone down. But the real kicker? It’s not just about the cost; it’s about the life you’re too busy to live along the way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fully aware that we were incredibly lucky to be able to live a nice comfortable life and provide a good upbringing for our son. The truth is, though, having everything we need, exactly when we need it, isn’t really doing us any favors. Turns out, the “perfect life” might be a little… boring. Uninspiring. Lacking in character growth. Who knew?
Zipping back to the past for a minute, neither Chuck nor I had charmed childhoods by any means. We earned our resilience and grit the hard way. Our families didn’t have much, and we got where we are today thanks to the grit we built through those struggles. Fast forward a few years, and let’s be honest—those struggles are a distant memory. We’ve grown a bit entitled, a little too soft, and dare I say, borderline dull. But hey, that’s a rant for another blog post…
Growth Sacrificed for Comfort
Our son is part of a generation of kids who don’t face the same struggles we did. That’s not to say they don’t have their own challenges, but I think one of them, for many kids, is not building enough grit, perseverance, or resilience. This might be because they’re growing up in a time when we, as parents, work so hard to make things safe, happy, and easier for them than it was for us. And honestly, there’s nothing wrong with wanting the best for our kids—it’s an act of love. But it does come with its own set of trade-offs.
Our 14-year-old son, Nicklas, has figured something out: life in “Perfectville” isn’t cutting it. He’s actually asked us to throw some struggles his way—opting for bigger, messier, busier cities over our suburban bubble. Can’t say I blame him; we’re on the same page there. Somehow, I managed to convince myself that a cookie-cutter suburban life—with perfectly trimmed hedges and the HOA’s silent approval—was the ultimate dream. Great for us, great for Nicklas, and obviously life-changing for the poodle. But here’s the twist: as parents with the means to shield our kids from life’s bumps, it turns out we’re also robbing them of the grit that comes from actual challenges. It’s a luxury problem, sure, but a problem all the same. It reminds me of that hilarious Modern Family episode (stay with me if you don’t watch the show) where Haley had to write a college essay but blamed her mom for not giving her enough material. Her life was “too perfect,” she was “too sheltered,” and she had no struggles to write about. So what did Claire, her mom, do? She drove Haley far away from their cushy suburban bubble into the California hills, tricked her into getting out of the car, and then sped off—leaving Haley to figure out her own way home. Spoiler: she did, begrudgingly, but at least she had a real struggle to write about! Sometimes, even a manufactured challenge is better than facing no challenges at all, right?
System Time-Out
And then, there are the schools. Let me start by saying there are many incredible administrators and teachers out there, working tirelessly within a system that feels fundamentally broken. But despite their efforts, Chuck and I couldn’t help but feel a growing frustration. The school system, in many ways, was failing to give us a sense that the focus was on the learning, joy, innocence, and wonder that the K-12 experience should bring.
The truth is, we felt a heavy weight of disappointment. And even worse, we saw the impact it was having on our son and other kids around us. It’s hard not to wonder: when did the system stop being about what’s best for the children?
Consequently, all of these factors combined, and more not even mentioned, Chuck and I were beginning to feel that at age 14, we were losing time to build up life experiences that would help Nicklas develop resilience, grit, determination and adaptability. We knew we needed to pivot out of Perfectville, and we needed to do it soon. The years go by so fast! But how do you change things so drastically when everything is so well-set-up and easy in your life? Well, as it turns out, the answer presented itself to us so clearly that it was nothing short of a foregone conclusion…
Universal Nudge Toward Portugal
In the dictionary, fate is defined as: (noun) “the development of events beyond a person’s control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power.”
The stressors and exhaustion involved in the rat race eventually bubble to the surface for almost everyone playing the game. People deal with it in as many different ways as there are people. Some drink too much on weekends. Some dive into hobbies like sports, knitting, or reading. Others focus on their kids’ activities or spend their spare time volunteering. I’ve done a mix of these, sometimes all at once (shoutout to my book club). But Chuck and I always have the same response to rat race stress: we move. Once we get the itch, there’s no turning back.
Our cross-country moves are impressive. I grew up in Minnesota but quickly fled the cold at 19, starting my adventures in Florida. Then I joined the Air Force, which took me to Colorado, where I met Chuck. We got married and moved to Texas, then New York, back to Colorado, and eventually back to Texas, where we had our son Nicklas. Finally, we landed in Oregon, Chuck’s home state.
Chuck’s story is similar to mine, except he returned to his home state reluctantly. We decided when Nicklas was 4 to move closer to family so he could know his relatives. Oregon won out over Minnesota because we can’t stand the snow, but I’ve always wished my son could be closer to his cousins in Minnesota. In hindsight, God’s hand was on our Oregon move, because during our 10 years there, Chuck lost both of his parents and a step-parent. He was meant to be there, spending time with them (as well as his sisters), after spending so much time away. And, Nicklas made some great family memories.
We don’t regret our decision to move to Oregon, but like I said, change was inevitably in the air. Family dinners turned into deep dives on Zillow, with the same burning question: “Where to next?” We were itching to move—but comfy ol’ Perfectville had us in a cozy chokehold. We needed a push… or maybe a catapult.
Our little “where should we live” hobby quickly spiraled into a nationwide scavenger hunt. Spoiler alert: nothing felt right. Chuck and I weren’t quite ready to retire, but we were definitely ready to ditch the 9-to-5 rat race in favor of something more meaningful—or at least slightly less soul-sucking. Only problem? The bloated cost of living on the West Coast was spilling into every corner of the country. And sure, we could save a little by hopping to another state, but the math just didn’t add up. How is anyone supposed to retire or even semi-retire without hemorrhaging their savings? And that’s just us—a family lucky enough to have savings. What about the millions of people who don’t? Who work their whole lives and still face impossible choices like “groceries or dental work?” I’ve walked out of the store with one sad little $100 bag of food and thought, “I’m lucky.” Some people have to stretch that for a month. Or longer. It’s maddening. You can’t help but wonder—who’s winning in this system?
I used to be a die-hard capitalist. Bootstraps, hard work, saving—if you did the thing, you’d get the reward. Simple, right? That theory held up… until it didn’t. Unless you’re oozing with VP vibes, good luck getting ahead in today’s America. Meanwhile, corporate greed is thriving—someone’s lining their pockets, but it sure isn’t the rest of us. And honestly? I’m over it. And Chuck’s thoughts were in line with my own. The cracks were getting deeper…
Choosing a Better Life
And then, almost as if it were fate, Chuck and I both lost our positions at Nike within weeks of each other. In the beginning, we experienced some confusion as to what to do next, even with the inner resentment that was building toward several aspects of our lives in Oregon. After all, we had a hefty mortgage, a child in middle school, and a BMW payment we never wanted (that’s another story). We searched for work, but nothing reasonable surfaced. Going through the motions, but feeling wholly unmoved, we knew a major pivot in thought and lifestyle was needed. We had just taken a trip to Portugal, which was meant to be a “pre-retirement scouting” trip, but turned into an open door, or a portal to another option for us. One evening, we said out loud what we knew we were both thinking, and we made a pact: “We are committed. We’re moving to Portugal” (of course, over a glass of Port wine).
Thank you, Nike. Thank you, Perfectville. Thank you, West Coast prices, corporate greed, a lack of moral character in our schools and workplaces, and a loss of good, healthy values in our daily lives. Thank you to the ridiculous over-correction of woke political correctness and the removal of fun and a healthy sense of humor in favor of never, ever risking offending someone, an impossibility in a world of unique people with unique experiences, and a task that will rob us all of personality, depth and joy. Thank you for pushing us to this amazing opportunity in a new place, a whole new world for us that, yes, is imperfect, gritty, and comes with its own problems. But this change – this major life pivot – is exactly what we needed to struggle and grow. To be forced to adjust our way of thinking and of existing, and to adapt and evolve. To grow in perseverance and character, and to give that opportunity to our teenage son, who has craved the challenge. As my late cousin Sarah would say, a phrase now burned into my mind, “What else is possible?”
We found out what else was possible for us! We moved to Portugal!
