✍🏾 The Things I Love About Costa Rica—And the Things That Drive Me Crazy
I thought I was ready to continue with this series, but a bit of writer’s block hit me last week.
I thought I was ready to continue with this series, but a bit of writer’s block hit me last week.
And I’m starting to listen to that small voice that recognizes when I’m procrastinating—not because I don’t have something to say, but because I’m afraid of what happens when I say it plainly.
I’ve built a life here.
I’ve invited others to consider this country as their next chapter.
I love Costa Rica.
And two things can be true.
It’s possible to love a place deeply and still tell the truth about what it costs you.
It reminds me of that Beyoncé lyric—“my torturer became my remedy”—but in the reverse. Some of the very things I needed to heal are now the same things that challenge me the most.
Let’s start with what I love.
🌿 What I’ve Grown to Love Even More
Some of the things I’ve come to appreciate even more after living in Nicaragua and traveling through Europe and the Middle East:
The sunshine. The nature. It’s not just pretty—it’s regulating. There’s something about waking up to trees, mountains, and birdsong that shifts your nervous system.
The food. Fresh fruit, vegetables, and whole foods are abundant. I’ve realized how hard it is to make good food choices when I travel, especially in the U.S., where processed food is everywhere. Here, good food is the default.
The security. From my apartment building to grocery stores and banks, there’s a visible culture of prevention. You can’t just walk into a bank—the doors are locked, and a guard greets you. Most homes have security bars. Hospitals run monthly specials on preventative health screenings. As someone living with PTSD, these layers of safety envelope me like a warm blanket.
The people. Most people here are genuinely friendly and helpful. There’s a warmth in the way community shows up—even in small ways.
The adventure. For as much as I’ve seen, there’s still so much more to explore. Every weekend I have FOMO just thinking about what’s out there: the melodic sounds of jazz night while savoring succulent French cuisine, the rhythm and closeness of sensual Kizomba or Bachata classes, the creative spark of vibrant paint-and-sip sessions.
And that’s just the beginning—there are seven-course dining experiences in treetop restaurants, day passes to volcanic hot springs, 5-star Ayurvedic retreat centers, and romantic escapes to luxury resorts like Costa Rica’s first Waldorf Astoria.
It helps that I have a partner who keeps me grounded and reminds me of what we’re building. I don’t have to chase everything. But knowing it’s all here? That means something.
😩 And Then... There’s the Other Side
But some things wear on me.
The bureaucracy. Especially in banking and business. Simple tasks feel unnecessarily complicated. Rules aren’t always clear—or consistently applied—and patience is required more often than not.
The misogyny. This culture worships and prioritizes men in a way that was a complete shock for an independent American woman—especially one who married into it. I’ve been in spaces where I was literally ignored, and workers would only address my husband. It’s dehumanizing.
The subtle racism. The more fluent I’ve become in Spanish, the more I’ve been able to hear what’s really being said. And not just here—across several of the countries we’ve spent time in. The mistreatment of Afro-Indigenous people around the world is painful to witness. It’s different from what we face as Black Americans, but no less violent in its erasure.
What makes it more complicated is that as Black Americans, we’re often praised or preferred—because we’re assumed to be wealthy. It’s a strange and sometimes uncomfortable duality: to be treated well while others who look like you are disregarded or mistreated.
It reminds me that privilege is relative. And sometimes, conditional.The language fatigue. While I’m high-intermediate in Spanish, I’m craving the ease of being in a place where English is widely spoken. Not having to translate my thoughts before advocating for myself or navigating systems would bring a sense of lightness I didn’t know I missed—until I experienced it again while traveling.
So yes, I love this country.
But I’ve stopped pretending it’s perfect.
Costa Rica was the soft place I needed to land. But the longer we’re here, the clearer it becomes: it might not be the only place we need to grow.
In the next post, I’ll share the criteria we now use when deciding whether a country is simply a visit—or a possible second home base. What we prioritize. What we’ve let go of. And how these choices unfold as a family.
Because at this stage, we’re not just looking for beauty.
We’re building infrastructure for a life that can hold all of us.
If Costa Rica has been whispering to you,
If you've been researching, bookmarking, and telling yourself “maybe next year”...
Then this is your nudge.
📌 If you’re seriously considering a move in the next 6 months—
It’s time to move from curiosity to strategy.
We don’t offer cookie-cutter tours or copy-paste relocation plans.
Melanin Tours is for those who are ready to make informed, intentional decisions about their next chapter.
We’re not here to convince you to move.
We’re here to help you move well.
Today’s inspirational video below courtesy of my Facebook doom scrolling…