San Diego is celebrated for its perfect weather and beaches, fostering a strong local pride. However, there's a cultural undercurrent where transplants are often seen as second-class compared to natives. But what if choosing to move here shows more love, bravery, and commitment than simply being born here?
Let's get something straight from the outset: being born somewhere isn't an accomplishment. It's a lottery win at best and a geographic coincidence at worst. Staying put, riding the inertia of familiarity, and coasting through life on the tailwinds of an accident of birth? That's not exactly the stuff of legend.
Now, contrast that with the transplant experience. We left behind everything we knew - family, friends, professional connections - because we fell in love with this city. Not through the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia, but with the eyes of true admiration. We visited, we felt the magic, and we decided: This is the place where we want to build our lives.
In December 2009, I made that leap. I packed my life into a Ford sedan and drove across states and borders with nothing but love for San Diego and faith in the future. No cushy safety net of childhood connections. No built-in network of friends from high school. Just raw determination to make this city my home. Is that not the ultimate expression of commitment?
There's a certain audacity in claiming superiority simply because you never left. Natives like to say, "I’m from here" with an air of entitlement, as if it's a badge of honor to have never ventured far from the nest. But let’s be honest - staying where you're born is often the safer, easier choice. It's the comfort of familiarity, the reassurance of proximity to family, and the avoidance of risk.
Transplants, on the other hand, are risk-takers. We're the ones who uprooted our lives, gambled on the unknown, and chose a city not because it was handed to us, but because it inspired us. We're the ones who looked at San Diego's skyline, its beaches, and its spirit, and said, Yes, this is worth starting over for.
Natives often claim a deeper connection to the city - as if being born here inherently means they care more. But let's break that down. How often do they take this city for granted? How many natives have actually explored its hidden corners, its cultural diversity, its history? In my experience, transplants are often the ones who dive in headfirst, eager to learn, participate, and contribute.
I've seen transplants open businesses, volunteer, and advocate for the city’s future with a passion born of genuine choice. Meanwhile, plenty of locals rest on their laurels, offering little more than a shrug and a "Well, I was born here, so I belong here." Belonging isn’t about birthright; it’s about investment - in time, energy, and love.
My journey here wasn't just a relocation; it was an adventure. In December 2007, I met the love of my life while studying abroad in Tanzania and Zanzibar, Africa. After a whirlwind romance, we paused our law school studies for an epic road trip. From New Orleans to Texas, down the east coast of Mexico, into Belize, and through Guatemala, we crossed borders and cultures in a beat-up Ford sedan (which I still own as a keepsake) with barely a grasp of Spanish. Fatefully, after venturing up the entire west coast of Mexico, the Mexicali border was closed, forcing us to move further westward. We entered the U.S. through Tijuana, our first glimpse of San Diego. The city's beauty and energy captivated us, and two years later, in December 2009, we moved here - jobless, connectionless, and fearless.
We chose this city. We've built our lives here from scratch. And we're not alone. San Diego is full of transplants who have brought their dreams, talents, and passion to enrich this city. We're not outsiders; we're contributors.
This isn't to disparage all locals. Many embrace the city with the same love and commitment as transplants. But to those who cling to the "I'm from here" mentality as if it makes them superior - it's time to reevaluate. Birthplace isn't destiny. Choosing San Diego, building a life here, and investing in its future - that's what truly matters.
So the next time a native scoffs at a transplant, remind them: You didn’t choose San Diego. We did. And that choice? It says everything.
Now, contrast that with the transplant experience. We left behind everything we knew - family, friends, professional connections - because we fell in love with this city. Not through the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia, but with the eyes of true admiration. We visited, we felt the magic, and we decided: This is the place where we want to build our lives.
In December 2009, I made that leap. I packed my life into a Ford sedan and drove across states and borders with nothing but love for San Diego and faith in the future. No cushy safety net of childhood connections. No built-in network of friends from high school. Just raw determination to make this city my home. Is that not the ultimate expression of commitment?
There's a certain audacity in claiming superiority simply because you never left. Natives like to say, "I’m from here" with an air of entitlement, as if it's a badge of honor to have never ventured far from the nest. But let’s be honest - staying where you're born is often the safer, easier choice. It's the comfort of familiarity, the reassurance of proximity to family, and the avoidance of risk.
Transplants, on the other hand, are risk-takers. We're the ones who uprooted our lives, gambled on the unknown, and chose a city not because it was handed to us, but because it inspired us. We're the ones who looked at San Diego's skyline, its beaches, and its spirit, and said, Yes, this is worth starting over for.
Natives often claim a deeper connection to the city - as if being born here inherently means they care more. But let's break that down. How often do they take this city for granted? How many natives have actually explored its hidden corners, its cultural diversity, its history? In my experience, transplants are often the ones who dive in headfirst, eager to learn, participate, and contribute.
I've seen transplants open businesses, volunteer, and advocate for the city’s future with a passion born of genuine choice. Meanwhile, plenty of locals rest on their laurels, offering little more than a shrug and a "Well, I was born here, so I belong here." Belonging isn’t about birthright; it’s about investment - in time, energy, and love.
My journey here wasn't just a relocation; it was an adventure. In December 2007, I met the love of my life while studying abroad in Tanzania and Zanzibar, Africa. After a whirlwind romance, we paused our law school studies for an epic road trip. From New Orleans to Texas, down the east coast of Mexico, into Belize, and through Guatemala, we crossed borders and cultures in a beat-up Ford sedan (which I still own as a keepsake) with barely a grasp of Spanish. Fatefully, after venturing up the entire west coast of Mexico, the Mexicali border was closed, forcing us to move further westward. We entered the U.S. through Tijuana, our first glimpse of San Diego. The city's beauty and energy captivated us, and two years later, in December 2009, we moved here - jobless, connectionless, and fearless.
We chose this city. We've built our lives here from scratch. And we're not alone. San Diego is full of transplants who have brought their dreams, talents, and passion to enrich this city. We're not outsiders; we're contributors.
This isn't to disparage all locals. Many embrace the city with the same love and commitment as transplants. But to those who cling to the "I'm from here" mentality as if it makes them superior - it's time to reevaluate. Birthplace isn't destiny. Choosing San Diego, building a life here, and investing in its future - that's what truly matters.
So the next time a native scoffs at a transplant, remind them: You didn’t choose San Diego. We did. And that choice? It says everything.
Originally published on January 11, 2025.
