The Decision to Leave

In June 2020, I faced a profound revelation—I could no longer call the United States my home. Isolated during the pandemic in my parents' house, I watched in horror as the nation erupted into protests over George Floyd's brutal murder, while others seemed to celebrate the prevailing injustices. The election buzz surrounding Donald Trump, despite his impeachment and the pandemic's staggering toll of over half a million lives, was suffocating.

A pivotal moment struck me during a grocery run. I passed a group of children holding signs demanding justice for Floyd, their innocence juxtaposing against a backdrop of apathy from the adults around them. I honked in support, but the moment turned bittersweet as I sobbed in my car.

A New Life in Spain

Three months later, armed with my dog and two suitcases, I boarded a one-way flight to Spain. My decision was fueled by despair over the prevailing political climate in the U.S.—the toxic conversations with friends, the relentless stripping away of rights I had once taken for granted. I felt like a coward for fleeing, leaving behind women who shared my struggles but lacked the resources I had, like an EU passport due to my father’s Italian heritage.

Facing the Aftermath of Change

Trump's loss in the 2020 election should have brought relief, yet it failed to quell my anxieties. As a survivor of sexual assault, the knowledge that nearly half the nation stood behind a man accused of heinous crimes was staggering. In Spain, I found freedom; purchasing birth control is seamless, gynecological care is accessible, and parental leave policies are generous.

Roe v. Wade: A Heartbreaking Reality

The overturning of Roe v. Wade shattered my heart for American women. Having struggled even for basic birth control, I worried for the future generation grappling with the same obstacles. Despite the collective outrage, the prospect of another Trump presidency seemed unfathomable. Global commentary painted a stark contrast to what many Americans appeared to believe.

The Bubble of American Ignorance

Time spent abroad opened my eyes to America's insular worldview, where misinformation festers, and nationalism is revered while globalism is vilified. Conversations with Americans often reveal a lack of empathy for women facing complex situations—if it doesn't affect them, they feel little reason to care. The more I traveled, the more my visits home felt foreign. My fear intensified with each encounter, anticipating potential tragedies from healthcare costs to the sight of gun holsters in public.

Taxation and the Weight of Responsibility

Each glance at my American passport reminds me of obligations I’d rather escape—like paying taxes to a government that dismisses the very sanctity of life it claims to protect. The mere thought of renouncing my citizenship to liberate myself from these constraints comes with a heavy price: losing the ability to visit family without visas.

The Global Implications of U.S. Politics

The looming 2024 election threatens to resonate beyond American shores, fueling far-right movements across Europe. Countries like Italy are enacting laws that erode reproductive rights, and the possibility of economic turmoil amidst rising nationalism grows each day. The world watches as America retreats from its stance against climate change, a grim prospect already manifesting in Spain’s tragic flood disasters.

A Collective Struggle Against the Storm Ahead

As my friends face geopolitical turmoil elsewhere, they ask why America appears indifferent while chaos unfolds. After four years abroad, the realization settles in—I cannot outrun the sociopolitical crisis birthed by millions willing to embrace bigotry and anti-feminism. Together with the global community, I prepare for the uncertain future that lies ahead.