Almost 40 years, 12 homes, one bar in Spain — and we’re doing it again

Kent and I met in Key West. That was nearly 40 years ago, and if you had told either of us then what the next four decades would look like — the cities, the countries, the losses, the rebuilding — we probably would have ordered another drink and changed the subject.

We’ve lived in at least twelve different homes since we’ve been together. Twelve different versions of what “home” meant — different states, different countries, different kinds of lives. We didn’t plan it that way. It just turned out that we are people who, when something stops working, would rather figure out what’s next than stay put waiting for it to fix itself.

That instinct has cost us sometimes. It has also given us a life that neither of us would trade.

This is the full story. We’re sharing it because we think it’s relevant to why this website exists — and because if you’re reading it, you’re probably wrestling with the same question we’ve asked ourselves more than once: is it worth starting over somewhere new?

In the early years, being gay was its own kind of obstacle course

We built our relationship during a time when being openly gay wasn’t widely accepted, and certainly not legally protected in the way it is today. In the early 1990s, we were married in the Episcopal Church. At the time, that was not a small or casual decision. It came with real pushback, real conversations, and a set of realities that most couples simply didn’t have to navigate. We did it anyway — not because it was easy, but because it mattered to us. That choice set the tone for a lot of what followed.

We have never really approached life by asking “is this the safest option?” It’s always been closer to “is this the right direction for us?” Sometimes those questions have the same answer. Often they don’t.

Careers, California, and the first set of moves

Our early years were shaped by building careers in very different fields. Before we met, Brian had completed his JD and worked as staff attorney to the Michigan Speaker of the House, eventually moving into corporate leadership at Sony Electronics, where he served as Director and later Vice President. Kent earned his PharmD from UCSF — one of the top pharmacy programs in the country — which moved us from Michigan to California, where a whole new chapter began.

Those early moves weren’t just about geography. Each one meant starting over in some real way: new city, new routines, new professional network, new community. We got good at it. Maybe too good at it. The willingness to uproot and rebuild became so familiar that it stopped feeling like disruption and started feeling like just how we lived.

Palm Springs — and the decision to get out before it got worse

By the time we were living in Palm Springs, Brian had built a successful career as a real estate broker. But something was shifting. The market had peaked. The energy around real estate was changing in a way that didn’t feel temporary. We paid attention to that signal, and we made a call: sell before the correction hits.

We were right about that. What we didn’t anticipate was how far the ripple would reach — but we’ll get to that.

Spain — the dream we chose on purpose

In 2007, with the Palm Springs chapter closed, we moved to Spain. Not as an escape. Not as a consolation prize. As something we actually wanted — the Mediterranean, a different pace, a culture that didn’t revolve around American rhythms of work and spending. We were clear-eyed about the fact that it would require building something from scratch. We went in knowing that.

We opened a bar in Marbella. And for a while, it was exactly what we’d hoped for. We had a routine. A rhythm. We could walk to the grocery store, walk through town, be part of daily life in a way that felt genuinely grounded. It wasn’t just where we lived — it was how we lived. We thought it would last.

The Library Bar, Marbella. We built this from scratch. It became our life for a few years — until the 2008 financial crisis took most of it away.

When it all came apart — and what we lost

Then came 2008. We had anticipated a correction in the U.S. housing market — that’s partly why we’d sold in Palm Springs. What we had not anticipated was how deeply the Global Financial Crisis would ripple through the global economy, or how directly it would hit Spain. What started as a shift became something much larger, and what we had built in Marbella came under enormous pressure.

We held on as long as we could. We adjusted. We adapted. Eventually, the reality became unavoidable. We sold the bar at a substantial loss. And we left.

That was one of the harder things we’ve been through together. Not just the financial hit — though that was real and significant — but the feeling of watching something you built carefully come apart in circumstances largely outside your control. It takes a while to metabolize that kind of loss. We’re not going to pretend it didn’t.

Phoenix — the place we stayed longer than we planned

We returned to the U.S. needing stability. Kent’s pharmacy license gave us a clear path, and we landed in Phoenix. The plan was to regroup, rebuild, and figure out what came next. We didn’t expect to be there for twelve years. Life has a way of stretching timelines.

And we did rebuild — financially, professionally, and personally. But Phoenix never fully fit. The extreme heat. The dependence on a car for absolutely everything. The growing concerns about water supply in a desert city that shows no signs of slowing down. We adapted, as we always do. But we never quite settled.

St. Petersburg — closer, but still not quite it

In 2022 we moved again, this time to St. Petersburg, Florida. And in a lot of ways, it felt like a better match. There’s a genuine vibrancy here — a walkable downtown, a sense of community we hadn’t felt in Phoenix, a place where we could actually leave the car at home for a few hours. That mattered more than we expected.

But the costs started to accumulate in ways that were harder to ignore. Property taxes rising. Homeowners insurance increasing significantly — Florida is not a forgiving insurance market right now. Overall expenses trending upward in a way that made the long-term math look less comfortable than we’d like. And once again we found ourselves asking a question we know well: is this sustainable?

What we figured out along the way

Here’s what all of those moves taught us. The Spain chapter, despite how it ended, wasn’t a failure in the way it might look on paper. It was the clearest proof we’ve ever had that living abroad actually works for us. The lifestyle we had in Marbella — the walking, the pace, the cost of daily life, the feeling of being genuinely embedded in a place — was better than most of what we’d experienced in the U.S. We knew it was possible, because we’d lived it.

That knowledge never went away. If anything, it became more pointed over time. We hadn’t gone back to the U.S. because we wanted to. We’d gone back because we had to. And once we’d rebuilt enough to have options again, the question wasn’t really whether to try living abroad again. It was where.

Where we are now — and why we’re sharing it

We’re at the point in this process where the research is done and the doing has begun. Brian is in the middle of applying for his Pensionado visa. We’ve been to Panama City. We’re documenting everything — the costs, the neighborhoods, the attorney meetings, the gay scene, the grocery prices, the moments where it all feels exciting and the moments where it feels complicated.

We’re sharing this because we think the process matters as much as the destination. Most expat resources tell you where to go. We want to show you how we’re actually deciding — including the parts where we’re not sure, the trade-offs we’re making, and the things we wish we’d known earlier.

We’re not here to tell you Panama is perfect or that moving abroad is right for everyone. It’s not. But if you’re a gay couple of a certain age, looking seriously at whether life somewhere else could be better — we think our experience is directly relevant to yours. Not because our reasons are the same as yours. They probably aren’t, in all the specifics. But the questions we’re asking, and the way we’re working through them, might be useful.

Nearly 40 years in, we’re still willing to find out what’s next. That hasn’t changed.

— Brian & Kent