Why I had to leave Conn.

When our family left Connecticut almost three years ago, I told myself that I didn’t want to write an article about why we were leaving. There had already been several pieces published on that theme — as well as counterpoint articles celebrating Connecticut — and I wasn’t ready to add my voice to the others.

It wasn’t that I didn’t find the articles interesting. Outmigration from Connecticut is a real phenomenon, and newspapers and others who are interested in the policy implications should try to understand why it is happening.

My reasons for not wanting to write about our move had more to do with the pain associated with leaving. I was sad to move, and so were my kids. We loved so many things about Connecticut. One of my favorite places near our home in South Windsor was the Little League complex, where I watched my children play countless games. The parents and volunteers I met there are still some of my favorite people in the world. We loved our church congregation and our neighbors. Our Fourth of July tradition was eating lobster rolls at Abbott’s, then watching a minor league baseball game.

Lobster rolls are hard to come by in the suburbs of Salt Lake City, where we live now. But there are things we love here as well, like the mountains and the national parks. We’ve made some wonderful new friends, and my kids still play baseball.

Still, moving is hard. It isn’t just the administrative functions — finding doctors, signing up for new schools, figuring out the best grocery store to go to — it’s finding your people. Retelling your old stories to new friends. Mourning what you left behind.

My husband was in the military so we’ve moved a fair amount, but Connecticut was supposed to be a permanent home. In the end, we couldn’t make it work. If we were asked on a census form why we moved, we would check the “new job” box. But, like most things, why we moved is much more complicated than a category on a government form.

If it had been an option, I might have checked “pension liabilities.” Weird, I know, but I worked in public policy in Connecticut for a conservative think tank, the Yankee Institute, where I advocated for policies that I believed would make Connecticut a better — and less expensive — place to live. And while I think we made progress, we kept running into the pension juggernaut, and the union power behind it. It was incredibly frustrating, and I could see it looming far into our future, driving up our taxes and cost of living.

Connecticut is an expensive place to live, which was a huge factor in our decision to move. We have five kids, and all the expenses that go with maintaining a family — groceries, gas, utilities, child care — were higher in Connecticut. Government regulation plays a role in driving up the price of goods and services in Connecticut, as do the high taxes, which affect not just households but businesses.

Living in Connecticut and working in public policy, I had to deal with constant cognitive dissonance when I looked at what lawmakers were doing. One of the reasons we chose to move to a red state was because of what we saw as the effects of extreme blue state policies — less social mobility, fewer jobs, higher taxes — and we wanted something different.

That attitude is reflected in a Facebook group I belong to, “People who left or are leaving Connecticut.” Mostly the people in the group share tips about towns they like in states like Florida and North Carolina, but there are also regular comments about states that have gotten “too liberal,” with warnings to steer clear.

There is growing evidence that Americans are going to states and neighborhoods that reflect their political beliefs. What does it say about us as a nation that we feel the need more and more to stick with people who think like us? Is it a good thing?

Maybe it is. My family chose a more conservative state for a reason. It was frustrating being in the political minority.

But maybe segregating ourselves by political affiliation isn’t good. Our social circles and communities are more interesting when we have lively, friendly disagreement rather than static groupthink. Some of my closest friends in Connecticut did not share my politics and loved me nonetheless. I learned things from them, and they sharpened my own thinking.

Too often today our disagreements aren’t friendly and openhearted, but instead they’re heated and judgmental. We all need to learn to disagree better.

I wish Connecticut well. I want the state to succeed because I love so many of its people. It is a beautiful place to live. And you can make a good life in Connecticut — of course you can — if you’re willing to pay a premium for what you get. The problem is that many people don’t seem willing to pay that premium anymore, and so the state struggles to grow and thrive.

What should change? It would be helpful if policymakers approached the issue of outmigration with more curiosity. You don’t have to completely remake a place to make it more inviting to the political minority, but you do need to show them that their thoughts and ideas matter. And that you care if they stay.