Chad Dunn left a demanding factory job in Savannah, Georgia, after growing tired of watching the clock and feeling constantly stressed. He relocated to Da Nang, Vietnam, and now runs a relocation service that helps Americans move quickly — arranging airport pickups, SIM cards, bank accounts and apartments, often within a week. Many clients discover him through TikTok, where short videos of everyday life abroad prompt viewers to ask how they can make the same change.
Surveys of global expats consistently place Vietnam and Thailand near the top for affordability and quality of life. Using U.N. data, researchers estimate the number of Americans living in Southeast Asia rose from roughly 32,000 in 1990 to nearly 88,000 in 2024, though those figures likely undercount the true total. In the United States, some demographers now see signs of a shift: a Brookings Institution analysis suggests U.S. net migration may have turned negative in 2025 for the first time in decades.
Brooke Erin Duffy, a communications professor at Cornell, says the trend has been building alongside the rise of remote work. Increasingly, people try to fit work into lifestyles instead of shaping life entirely around work. Social platforms accelerate that transition by combining aspirational imagery with relatable creators who film remote work from appealing settings. She cautions, however, that online posts are often curated and smooth over practical problems.
Affordability is one of the clearest attractions. Mia Moore, a 37-year-old holistic nutritionist from Northern California, settled in Da Nang after years of travel through the region. She now pays about one-fifth of her former rent in the U.S., faces minimal utility bills, and buys local dishes like pho for roughly $2 to $4. She rejects the notion that lower prices mean lower quality, saying the lifestyle is often higher in quality while costing less. On TikTok, Americans stream mornings in beachfront cafes, apartment tours and evening walks, delivering a simple message: life in Southeast Asia can look easier.
In Thailand, similar stories circulate. Chris Michaels left a corporate job in Chicago and, after visiting Bangkok, retired at 46. He has spent more than seven years in Thailand, posting regularly on TikTok and livestreaming his day-to-day life. The most common request he receives is how viewers can leave the United States and move to Thailand. For many, the arithmetic is persuasive: rents, food and transport in cities like Da Nang and Bangkok can amount to a small fraction of U.S. costs, especially for people earning or holding savings in U.S. dollars. That financial gap lets many prioritize time, community and personal projects over constantly chasing higher income.
But the social-media narrative leaves out important complications. A major advantage for many expats is earning in dollars while spending in local currencies, a benefit not available to most Vietnamese or Thai residents. Local employment opportunities can be limited; in Vietnam, for example, foreigners are generally restricted to a narrow set of jobs, often English teaching positions that pay less than comparable roles in the U.S. As a result, many rely on remote work, savings or income streams tied to the U.S., allowing them to enjoy lower costs without fully integrating into the local labor market.
Healthcare expenses can be lower and services in major cities are often affordable and high quality; Moore cites a dental cleaning, X-rays and an exam for roughly 200,000 Vietnamese dong (about $8). Yet access and standards vary outside urban centers, and long-term concerns like schooling, visas and residency can be complex. Tourist visas, common for Americans in Vietnam, typically allow stays up to 90 days and often require frequent border exits and returns. Thailand has a variety of visa options, but securing long-term residency or permanent status remains a complicated process. Michaels emphasizes that, even after years abroad, he still feels like a guest rather than a full-fledged resident.
Other trade-offs are personal and practical: distance from family, time zone differences that complicate work and relationships, and the work of rebuilding social networks and daily routines. Adjustment can be emotionally difficult; Michaels remembers early nights waking at 2 or 3 a.m. wondering what he had done and says it took months to feel settled. The promise of a lower-stress life is not automatic; many people arrive carrying the same pressures they had before and must actively reshape habits and expectations.
Even with those caveats, what began as curiosity is turning into long-term moves for many Americans. Dunn says that when he first announced his departure, friends thought he was crazy; now they call asking how to relocate. Michaels notes a reversal in questions over the years: people who once wondered why he left now ask how to follow. For many who make the shift, the change feels permanent and irreversible. Dunn puts it simply: once you leave and build a life abroad, it can be hard to go back.