Dear Coastal Friends, we've watched with bemused tolerance as you've discovered our states like Columbus discovering America—as if we weren't already here, thriving. You arrive with your remote work money, your strong opinions about what coffee should taste like, and an unshakeable belief that everywhere should be exactly like where you came from, just with cheaper housing. Here's a revolutionary thought: maybe the problem isn't the place you're leaving. Maybe it's you.
Step 1: Complain about California/Oregon/Washington taxes, housing costs, traffic, and politics.
Step 2: Move to Idaho, Montana, Texas, or Arizona.
Step 3: Immediately vote for the exact same policies.
Step 4: Wonder why housing prices are rising.
Step 5: Complain there's no good sushi.
Step 1: Complain about New York/Boston/DC prices, taxes, and cold winters.
Step 2: Move to Nashville, Austin, Charlotte, or Florida.
Step 3: Loudly explain how everything was better "back home."
Step 4: Try to recreate Brooklyn in every small town.
Step 5: Complain the pizza isn't authentic.
Notice the pattern? You're not escaping your problems—you're spreading them like dandelion seeds in a windstorm.
When a farmer plants the wrong crop, they don't move to a different farm—they learn and plant better next time. You supported policies that made your city unaffordable? That made traffic unbearable? That created a homelessness crisis? Congratulations, that's called a "lesson." Stay and learn it. Fix your own soil before you come till ours.
Our towns aren't blank canvases waiting for your coastal vision. We have histories, cultures, and systems that work for us. When you arrive expecting us to change to accommodate your preferences—demanding better brunch spots, complaining about our politics, pricing out our kids from their own hometowns—you're not joining a community. You're colonizing it. There's a difference between being a neighbor and being an invader with a U-Haul.
Running from problems doesn't make you adaptable—it makes you a perpetual refugee from your own decisions. You want to build resilience? Stay where you are and fix what's broken. Want to build character? Live with the consequences of your ballot choices. Want to build community? Stop treating states like Airbnbs you can check out of when the reviews drop.
If everywhere you go smells bad, check your own shoes. You've left three states in five years? You "can't find anywhere that feels right"? Maybe the problem isn't geography. Maybe it's the belief that somewhere else will magically fix what you're unwilling to address about your own expectations, choices, and contributions to the problems you're fleeing.
We, the people of the middle, hereby declare that we are not your escape hatch, your retirement plan, or your fresh start opportunity.
We declare that "but it's cheaper here" is not a sufficient reason to move if you're going to immediately make it expensive.
We declare that bringing your politics with you defeats the entire purpose of leaving.
We declare that comparing everything to New York, LA, Seattle, or San Francisco gets old after the first hundred times.
We declare that if you loved your coastal city enough to live there for 20 years, maybe love it enough to fix it instead of abandoning it.
We lovingly suggest that before you pack that moving truck, you ask yourself: "Am I running toward something better, or away from something I helped create?"
"I had to leave because of [policy X]"
→ Immediately votes for policy X in new location
"I want a simpler life"
→ Complains there's no vegan options, craft cocktail bars, or specialized yoga studios
"I want to be part of the community"
→ Never learns neighbors' names, attends town meetings only to complain
"Housing is too expensive where I'm from"
→ Offers $100k over asking, cash, sight unseen
"I love the authenticity here"
→ Immediately tries to change everything to be less authentic
Before any coastal resident moves to the heartland, they must complete the following oath:
"I solemnly swear that I will not:
• Compare everything to where I came from (maximum 3 times per year)
• Vote for policies that caused my exodus
• Complain about lack of coastal amenities
• Price locals out of their own neighborhoods
• Say 'Well, in [coastal city] we...' more than once per month
• Attend community meetings just to criticize
• Treat local culture as quaint or backward
• Immediately try to change zoning laws
I understand that if I cannot abide by these terms, I should probably just stay where I am and fix the problems I helped create."
Look, we get it. Your cities are expensive, crowded, and politically frustrating. But here's the thing: you built them that way. Through decades of votes, activism, and consumer choices, you created the coastal crisis. And now you want to export it?
We're not your fallback plan. We're not your do-over. We're not your blank slate.
If you come here, come to integrate, not to recreate. Come to learn, not to teach. Come to contribute, not to convert. And for the love of all that's holy, come having learned from your mistakes—don't come to repeat them.
Or better yet: Stay where you are. Plant your feet. Fix your problems. Water your own grass.