• At 50, I retired from my job as a pharmacist in the US and moved to Ajijic, Mexico.
• To make this work, I did a lot of strategic planning and adjusting before and after the move.
• It has already paid off: I'm doing well, and I've planned for a sustainable early retirement abroad.

After turning 50, I retired from my job as a pharmacist and moved from San Francisco to Ajijic, Mexico.

On paper, I had done everything right: I did a ton of research, picked a beautiful lakeside town, and ran the numbers. I was confident I could make this new life work.

However, building a sustainable, enjoyable early retirement abroad takes more than just moving to a place with a lower cost of living.

After three years here, I believe I've finally done it.

First, I had to figure out what 'sustainable' actually means in practice

For me, a sustainable early retirement abroad means feeling at ease and living comfortably while staying prepared for the unexpected.

Since I chose to retire at 50, I wanted to make sure I could support myself for at least another 17 years, which is when I'll be eligible to receive full Social Security benefits.

When building a sustainable financial system, I kept in mind my desired lifestyle, second-career goals, fixed-income investments, and long-term legacy.

For example, I wanted to be able to visit my family back in San Francisco regularly and finally pursue writing as a career — something I'd wanted since grade school — without an immediate need for income.

So, I prioritized growing my high-yield savings accounts and investing in CDs, short-term bond funds, and money market funds to cover living expenses.

I also hired a financial advisor to diversify the rest of my portfolio for growth and stability, so I could focus on creative work rather than market swings after I moved.

I knew I needed to create a budget to help keep my yearly spending steady, so I began tracking how much I would need for essentials while still having extra money for travel, enrichment, and emergencies.

The first year of my move consisted of a lot of preparing, testing, and exploring

After the initial culture shock, I spent my first year in Ajijic learning my way around the town, getting accustomed to Mexican culture, and gradually falling into step with the local rhythm.

I explored different ways to manage cash flow between my US and Mexican bank accounts and learned I liked using the service Wise for low-fee currency conversions.

Through online searches and conversations with locals and expats, I curated a "money‑smart" list of the best-priced grocery stores, reliable handymen, and trusted doctors, so future surprise expenses could be less likely to blow up my budget.

I tracked all my spending in a spreadsheet, breaking it down by category so I knew exactly where my money was going. This helped me plan for the next year.

After a few months of renting, I also bought a house that's become both a comfortable home and a long‑term investment. Owning a home helped anchor me in the community and turn my housing expenses into an asset.

In my second and third years abroad, I did more strategic planning and refining

In year two, I worked closely with my financial advisor to better reshape my portfolio around my early retirement needs and set up an accessible emergency fund.

I got in the habit of using Wise to track the dollar-to-peso exchange rate and batch-converting money whenever it was favorable.

Plus, I took a closer look at my healthcare plans. Because of my good health, I chose to pay out of pocket for doctor's visits rather than buy health insurance in Mexico. This lowered my expenses and also made it easy to put off routine checkups.

Even though I felt fine, I knew I needed to stay on top of preventive care to protect my long-term health, so I also scheduled an annual lab panel, vision exam, and routine teeth cleaning. They all cost me less than what I'd spend on similar services in the US. I made plans to repeat this annually so small problems wouldn't snowball.

In year three, I set up many unsexy but critical documents, including wills, beneficiary designations, and a cross-border estate plan.

I also created an emergency plan in case of a health crisis, which included which hospital I'd like to use, how I would pay, and who to call if something went wrong.

And, after two years of collecting my Ajijic spending data, I finally had the experience and confidence to lock in my budget and begin living by it.

All in all, I've found that sustainability is a gateway to opportunities

I feel I've made the right choice by retiring early in Mexico and giving myself the chance to lead a new life on my own terms.

In three years, though, all my planning, saving, investing, and strategizing have begun to pay off: I've had more mental space for writing and other creative work that energizes me.

My writing career is already taking shape. I recently won ThrillerFest's 2026 Undiscovered New Voices scholarship and will soon pitch my latest psychological thriller to industry professionals.

Sure, this is a simplified overview — building a retirement abroad also involves navigating visas and so many other logistics.

It takes time to build a system that can hold up for decades, but I already feel confident I can maintain my current lifestyle for many years to come.

• Harry and Susan Jones own Bridge Avenue Berries, a blueberry farm in Allenwood, Pennsylvania.
• The farm became USDA organic certified in 2021, boosting customer traffic and interest.
• If they had bought the farm 30 years ago, they would have likely grown a more diverse set of crops.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Harry Jones, 63, who owns and runs Bridge Avenue Berries with his wife, Susan, in Allenwood, Pennsylvania. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Since I was a kid, I'd always wanted to run my own business, but it never quite came together. I tried starting a small tree nursery business, but we couldn't compete with the big nurseries and had to close it.

Then, a blueberry farm that my wife and I had been picking berries at for years went up for sale. When I first mentioned buying it, she said, "Absolutely not."

A few months later, we were there picking blueberries, and the farm still hadn't sold. We started talking with the owner and purchased it in March 2018.

We didn't have much time to figure it out. Blueberry season starts in early July, and we had about four months to get ready.

That first summer, it felt like we were drinking from a fire hose. We were learning everything at once — pests, soil, customers — mostly the hard way.

I wasn't starting from scratch, but owning a farm still surprised me

My background is in horticulture. I have an associate degree in nursery management, and I spent years designing landscapes. So, I've been around plants most of my life.

Still, running a blueberry farm is a different kind of challenge.

We have about 7 acres of blueberries — roughly 3,800 plants — and we harvest around 18,000 pounds a year.

The catch is that it all happens in about a 30-day window in July. That month is intense, but the work doesn't end with the season. The rest of the year is spent on preparing for the next one.

I've kept my full-time job in the lumber industry through all of this. We tend to call the farm my self-supporting hobby, but the truth is, even a small farm like ours struggles to make a dollar.

By the time you pay for inputs, repairs, improvements, and all the other costs that come with a small business, there's not much left.

If I were younger, I'd do it differently

At this stage of life, I think differently about what the farm should be. If I were 25 or 30 years younger, I wouldn't run it the way I do now.

Right now, we're heavily focused on one crop. If I were starting earlier, I'd cut the number of blueberry bushes down — maybe from 3,800 to about 2,000 — and use the rest of the land for other crops. Strawberries, raspberries, pumpkins — something to stretch income across more of the year.

That's the biggest challenge with what we do. When you rely on a single crop and a short season, it's hard to build a stable living.

We've found ways to spread out the income a bit. We freeze blueberries — about 1,900 pounds a year — and sell them through the winter at local markets and to restaurants.

Becoming USDA-certified organic was a game changer

We started farming organically from day one in 2018, but it took time to make it official. To become USDA certified organic, we had to go through a required three-year transition period — documenting everything we did, from fertilizers to pest control, and proving we were following the standards.

We finally got certified in spring 2021, and once we could call our berries "USDA organic," we saw more customers, more traffic, and even people driving an hour or more to pick our fruit.

But over time, the downsides started to add up. The certification cost us about $1,400 a year — a big expense for a small farm — and required inspections and paperwork during our busiest season. More importantly, I grew frustrated with what I saw as inconsistencies in the system.

In early 2024, we gave up our USDA certification and switched to Certified Naturally Grown, a smaller, farmer-led program. It costs about $350 a year and still holds us accountable to the National Organic Program Standards, but in a way that is more transparent and aligned with how we actually farm.

We know we won't do this forever

Realistically, we'll probably run the farm for another three to five years and then look to sell it, so that we can have more freedom to travel and visit our three kids and nine grandchildren.

I think about what a younger person could do with this place. It's a productive farm with a lot of potential. Someone with more time and energy could take it further than we have.

Even knowing what I know now, I'd still buy the farm.

We're happy with what we've built. It gave me a chance to finally run my own business and to work with something I've always loved — plants. And it's been meaningful to us to see people come here, enjoy the farm, and tell us how much they like it.

• Scott Scovel moved to Miami in his 50s, hoping to benefit from lower taxes and cheaper living costs.
• But those costs didn't make as much of a difference as he anticipated, especially after he retired.
• The biggest benefit of Miami was unexpected — he bought a much cheaper home and retired early.

In 2021, at age 58, I followed one of the hottest relocation trends in the US: I moved from New York to Florida.

I'd accepted a new job in Miami that I intended to be my last, and wanted to see what it would be like to retire in Florida. I was drawn by Miami's warm winters, lower taxes, and supposedly cheaper living, but I also loved New York, so I was torn about where I'd have a better retirement.

Now that I'm here, I love Miami's glorious weather and cultural diversity, but I've only found modest benefits from Florida's lower taxes and living costs when compared to my life in New York.

Miami hasn't met all my expectations, but it surprised me in one very important way, and I'm glad I moved here.

Housing costs were dramatically cheaper in Miami, but they're on the rise

During my first few weeks in Miami, I was lured in by the bike rides I could take through lush parks and along glistening blue waters. In the neighborhood of Brickell, I could enjoy a pedestrian lifestyle similar to Manhattan's. By my sixth month, I was ready to commit to living here permanently, so I called a realtor.

I bought a two-bedroom condo in cash for $727,500, using the money from the $1.65 million sale of my two-bedroom Manhattan condo in 2019. With no mortgage, my monthly expenses fell significantly. I suddenly realized I could afford to retire years earlier than I expected, relying on my savings, so I left full-time work in 2022 at age 60.

I was lucky because I took Manhattan money with me to Miami, after nearly 40 years of working in the financial services industry. For other Americans moving from lower-income areas, the "Miami dream" may not be as affordable. House prices in Florida aren't what they used to be: evidence shows Miami condos cost over twice as much as they did 10 years ago.

Lower taxes and living costs didn't make as much difference as I expected

When I received my first paycheck in Florida, I rejoiced because there's no personal state income tax here. New York State and City taxes cost me nearly $40,000 some years.

Now that I no longer have an income from a job, I'm not benefiting in the same way. Lower taxes initially drew me to Miami, but I hadn't properly considered that this factor would lose significance when my income fell in retirement.

I also assumed everything would be more expensive in NYC than Miami, but I've been struck by how comparable many costs are. I still buy clothes from online retailers and household goods from Amazon, meaning the prices don't fluctuate significantly based on where I am.

My weekly grocery bill is perhaps a little cheaper in Miami, but some things were unexpectedly cheaper in New York, most notably transportation, as the subway system beats having to own a car or pay for Ubers to get around parts of Miami.

Miami has great weather, but it can't beat New York's cultural abundance

I absolutely love the Florida weather. I grew up with four-month winters in Minnesota, and during my first year in Miami, I'd brag to friends up north that I now wear shorts 360 out of 365 days. I worried that the summer heat would get oppressive, but it actually hasn't been that bad. I wake up at dawn to exercise, avoid the midday sun, and reappear outdoors in the cooler evenings.

I like that Miami has a diverse population and is a major hub for Latin American and Caribbean cultures. However, I sometimes miss the broader global culture in New York, where I could effortlessly eat great Thai food just blocks from home, take in an African art exhibit at the Met, or attend a European film festival. Miami can be proud of its restaurant and cultural scene, but almost no city can compare to New York's abundance.

I was shocked housing in Miami was so much cheaper than New York

Though I came to Miami expecting to make significant tax savings and benefit from lower day-to-day expenses, I've found that my retirement living costs are pretty similar to what they would've been in New York.

The biggest benefit, however, was unexpected. I was shocked to learn that Miami housing could be so much cheaper than New York. I bought a comparable condo for less than half the cost of my Manhattan home, which eliminated my need for a mortgage and enabled me to retire early. For that, I'm extremely grateful to Miami.

Retiring early means I'm young enough to fully enjoy my golden years. I bask in the Miami sunshine on walks and bike rides, travel extensively to other countries, and have time to pursue all sorts of hobbies, from improv classes to museum trips.

One of the most enduring myths about Florida's history is that European explorer Ponce de León came here in search of the fountain of youth in the 1500s. I'd like to think I've found my own fountain of youth by retiring early in Miami — something that means more to me than a lower tax rate.

Do you have a story to share about moving to Miami? Contact the editor, Charissa Cheong, at ccheong@businessinsider.com

• Jay Zigmont has been married for 17 years and has no kids.
• He rents his home because he and his wife move frequently.
• He's unlikely to retire fully, but likes a more fluid approach to work.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jay Zigmont, founder of Childfree Wealth and Childfree Trust. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I wear a shirt when I want to start conversations. It says, "Proudly childfree and wealthy."

At financial conferences, it stops people in their tracks and gives me an opportunity to talk about my work helping childfree people make estate plans that match their lives.

My wife, Vicki, and I have been married for nearly 17 years. Because of a health condition she has, we always knew we wouldn't have kids. It's shaped everything about how we approach life, including our ideas about our careers, finances, retirement, and even home ownership.

Vicki is Catholic, and wanted to get married in the Catholic Church, but they wouldn't marry us if we didn't plan to have children. We asked three different churches, and all had the same answer. We got married at my Methodist church, and that was the first time we realized how much being childfree would impact all areas of our lives.

I'd like to die with very little money, not acquire more wealth

I'm 48, but in my late 30s, I had achieved my career and financial goals. I had $1 million in the bank and no debt, but I didn't know where to go from there.

As a childfree person, there's a point when you can have too much wealth. I'm not trying to build generational wealth — in fact, I'd like to die with very little money. That means my career isn't driven by financial gain. I focus on purpose, not profit.

Whatever Vicki and I have when we die will be left to our nephews, but I hope it's not much. Instead of leaving them a large sum later in life, we're supporting them when they need it most. We contribute to their college funds, and I would be happy to consider investing in their businesses or helping them buy a house. We also give generously to charities — my personal favorite is a charity that buys and forgives medical debt.

I likely won't ever retire fully

I plan to always work in some way. Instead of focusing on early retirement, I follow a FILE approach: "financial independence, live early." I want to work on projects I enjoy, but do so on my own time, from anywhere.

When you don't have kids, you have to reimagine the typical idea of success and what life can look like. That can take months, because you're untangling a lifetime of messaging, to figure out what you truly want.

I encourage people to think about this by writing their obituary. Mine would say something like "loving husband, world traveler, author, and innovator." Those are the things I want to focus on — not building wealth for wealth's sake. A few years ago, I tried my hand at maple syrup farming just because it sounded enjoyable.

My legacy will be helping other childfree people

Vicki and I rent our home, and although we've owned in the past, I don't think we ever will again. We move often, every two to three years, since we're not tied to a specific school system or living near family to help watch the kids. Renting saves us money, and I think it's usually the right move for most childfree people.

Recently, Tennessee, where I live, passed a bill requiring students to learn about the "success sequence": graduating, getting a job, getting married, and having kids. We're taught so much about that one path to success, but there are more options.

My legacy won't be children, but rather helping other childfree people find the success sequence that's right for them.

• Monica Nassif, founder of Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day, retired at 53.
• Nassif said scaling struggles pushed her to sell her brands to SC Johnson in 2008.
• "It deserves to be in the hands of people who can scale this much better than we can," Nassif said.

For some founders, selling their company to an internationally recognized corporation like SC Johnson is a cause for unbridled celebration. For Monica Nassif, it was more complicated.

"It's really bittersweet," Nassif, founder of Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day, told Business Insider. "I had to sell my mother."

Nassif's 93-year-old mother is the inspiration behind the household cleaning products. Thelma Meyers, an avid gardener, raised Nassif and her eight siblings as a homemaker in Iowa. The items she grew in the family's backyard — basil, lavender, lemon — were the basis for the Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day product scents.

"At one time, we had this trailer that was designed like her kitchen," Nassif said, referring to Thelma. "We used to take it to music events or places like the Embarcadero in San Francisco. People stood in line for that. They'd get samples, and she'd sign their bottles."

Nassif launched Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day and an upscale version, Caldrea, in 1999. By the mid-2000s, Nassif's brands were becoming part of people's daily lives. Caldrea, a premium essential oil-infused household cleaning brand, was sold at upscale grocery and specialty gift stores. Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day gained a foothold in mass-market retailers like Whole Foods, pushing the company to new heights.

So, when SC Johnson acquired the brands for an undisclosed amount in 2008, Nassif said the decision didn't come lightly. However, a phone call she had avoided for weeks changed everything.

Going international

In the early days, Nassif would often market her products at trade shows, where investors could be found searching for their next moneymaker. Among the curious crowd was SC Johnson, which owns popular brands like Windex, Drano, Ziploc, Scrubbing Bubbles, and Fantastik.

"A whole team from SC Johnson shows up during one of our first trade shows with Caldrea. We're probably maybe a year old, and our booth is so tiny," Nassif said. "I was trying to sell my product and needed to open wholesale accounts, so I asked them politely to leave, but I knew why they were interested. I'm sure we were very fascinating to them."

Nassif said she ignored "countless private equity and venture capital guys" for years as her brands grew.

"I always asked all these potential investors one question: "What can you do for us that we can't do for ourselves?" Nassif said. "We were great at marketing, and pretty good at sales."

Other areas, though, were less successful.

"Distribution and scaling rapidly, not so great," Nassif said. Still, Nassif kept her head down and pushed forward until she got a call from SC Johnson.

"I refused that call for weeks. I didn't even know who it was," Nassif said. "But it gets to a point where you go, 'I want this to be bigger. This is a great brand. It deserves to be in the hands of people who can scale this much better than we can.'"

She added: "We neither had that skillset nor the capital to figure it out."

Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day is now sold in major retailers across the United States, Canada, and Singapore. Both brands have products available through online retailers like Amazon.

Failed retirement

Nassif retired from the company in 2010. She was 53. Her days out of the office didn't stick, though.

"I failed retirement," Nassif said. "I liked working. I liked creative projects. I liked being involved in startups. They have incredible energy, and it really keeps you alert and aware of what's happening."

Most recently, Nassif wrote a part-memoir, part-business guide titled "I Bottled My Mother," which hits shelves on March 24.

"I speak to entrepreneurs and the questions are always the same," Nassif said. "'How do you do it? Where do you get your ideas? What should I do first?' I thought it'd be fun to do a startup manual. Hey, if you're thinking about starting a business, here's how to go about it."

She also wanted to honor her mother.

"It's really a childhood memoir about how the Mrs. Meyer's brand came into being," she said.