The Third Great Migration: Why People Are Leaving the U.S. (And What It Says About Our collective Mental Health)
So, apparently, more people left the United States in 2025 than moved here. It’s all over the internet (and the news [in the U.S., basically the same thing]). That kind of migration pattern hasn't happened since 1935—you know, the middle of the Great Depression, when people were literally hopping freight trains to find work, travel or a new home where they could financially survive.
The current phenomena is being called the "Third Great Migration."
Now vs. Then
The first two were about Black Americans fleeing the violent, oppressive South for the industrial North and West—escape from one set of structural horrors in search of something better. This one feels like the same energy, but with a twist. Now, people aren't just moving across state lines. They're leaving the country entirely.
And it's not just one demographic. Wealthy retirees, young professionals, queer folks, Black families, women, disabled people—all sorts of folks are looking at the exit signs. Organizations like Blaxit Global are helping African Americans relocate abroad. Expatsi, a relocation company, recently hosted an event where 89% of attendees cited politics as their primary motivation for leaving.
The "American Dream" isn't dead—it just moved to Mexico, Italy and Vietnam.
But Why Are People Really Leaving?
The numbers tell one story. The reasons tell another.
People are leaving because they're tired. Not tired in a "I need a nap" way—tired in a "I can't keep living like this" way.
Colonization built this country on stolen land and stolen labor. That bill is coming due, and the interest is brutal.
Capitalism has made healthcare and housing unaffordable for millions. Twenty-five percent of Americans delay medical care because of cost. That's not a free market—that's a hostage situation.
White supremacy and structural racism mean that for Black, Indigenous, and other people of color, the U.S. has always been a hostile environment. Blaxit isn't a trend—it's a survival strategy.
Patriarchy and bigotry make this country unsafe for women, trans folks, and anyone who doesn't fit the narrow, cis-het, white Christian mold.
Class divisions mean that if you're not wealthy, you're one medical emergency away from bankruptcy.
All of these systems don't just create material hardship. They create psychological distress. They tell you that you don't belong, that you're not safe, that your life doesn't matter as much as someone else's. And when enough people internalize that message, they start looking for the door.
For most, the first reason for leaving the U.S. isn't about chasing a better life—it's about escaping a harmful one. It's the same logic that guides someone leaving an abusive relationship: when the environment is oppressive, when the threats are constant, when the promises of change never materialize, the healthiest choice is often to leave. The U.S. has spent decades telling marginalized communities that things will get better—while simultaneously making their lives harder. At a certain point, staying stops being hope and starts being harm.
A Little Wry Humor (Because We Need It)
It's almost poetic. A country built by immigrants—famous for the Statue of Liberty and "give me your tired, your poor"—is now watching its own citizens say, "Actually, we're tired and poor too—and we're out."
Some commentators are calling it the "Trump Exodus." Others are calling it the "Great American Exit." But whatever you call it, it's a pretty clear signal that something is deeply broken when people would rather navigate foreign healthcare systems, learn new languages, and deal with international bureaucracy than stay here.
The American Dream has been rebranded: "Live somewhere else."
What Does This Have to Do with Mental Health?
Everything.
When people feel like they have to leave their home country to survive, that's not just a political statistic—it's a collective trauma response.
If you're reading this and feeling like the walls are closing in, you're not wrong. The systems we live under are designed to exhaust us, impoverish us, and gaslight us into thinking it's our fault.
But here's the thing: you're not crazy. The anxiety, the depression, the rage, the grief—those are appropriate responses to an inappropriate society. You are not broken. You are reacting to a broken world.
And whether you stay or go, whether you fight or flee, that choice is yours. There's no shame in leaving a burning building. There's also no shame in staying to put out the fire.
What matters is that you have the clarity to see the systems at play, the self-compassion to honor your own limits, and the community to hold you through it all.
A Final Thought
The Third Great Migration isn't just a statistic. It's a mirror. It reflects the cumulative weight of colonization, capitalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, and every other ism that profits from human suffering.
So if you're thinking about leaving—or if you're thinking about staying—know that your feelings are valid. Your exhaustion is real. And your desire for a life with dignity, safety, and joy is not too much to ask for.
You deserve a world that doesn't require you to escape it.
Disclosure: This blog article was written with the assistance of AI, after the author wrote a 6-paragraph prompt and then wrangled, wrestled, and edited the shit out of it to remove any remaining traces of patriarchal, bigoted, capitalist, right-wing, whiteness-centering bullshit. That said, the topic, themes, sociopolitical perspectives, tone, and style were derived from the author.
The author uses AI because—despite the wreckage it's causing—this shit isn't going away. The author was a MySpace user in the 90s. She knows how these things go. And as a sole practitioner with a full practice, there is no way in hell she could keep up with writing a relevant, timely, thought-provoking, and inspiring weekly blog that speaks to the regular gaslighting the marginalized face, while also serving clients without the use of AI.
So yes—contrary to the saying, sometimes you do need to use the master's tools to dismantle the master's house. Sorry, Audre.