What I Wish I Knew Before Moving to Costa Rica as a Queer Expat
- Waymon Hudson
- Nov 8
- 4 min read
Updated: Nov 21
Lessons in Safety, Community, and Pura Vida from Someone Who’s Been There
🌈 The Dream (and the Reality)
When I first started planning my move to Costa Rica, I had visions of hammocks, coconuts, and endless rainbow sunsets.
And yes — those moments are real.
But so are the days when you’re standing in a government office clutching papers you don’t understand, or wondering if that landlord meant “roommate” or “partner.”
I learned quickly that moving abroad as a queer person isn’t just about changing countries — it’s about redefining home.
🇨🇷 1. It’s Safe — But You Still Need to Know Where You Are
Costa Rica consistently ranks among the safest and most LGBTQ-friendly countries in Latin America.
Same-sex marriage is legal, anti-discrimination laws are strong, and Pride flags fly openly in San José.
Still, “safe” doesn’t mean uniformly accepting.
In the Central Valley and beach towns like Manuel Antonio or Tamarindo, affection between same-sex couples rarely raises an eyebrow.
In some rural or religious communities, it’s best to read the room first.
My rule: Lead with confidence, not confrontation.
When you move with openness and respect, most Ticos respond with warmth Queer expats in Costa Rica.
💬 2. “Pura Vida” Isn’t Just a Phrase — It’s a Pace
Everyone tells you about the phrase pura vida — literally “pure life.”
What they don’t tell you is that it also means: nothing happens on time.
Whether you’re waiting for a residency appointment, a plumber, or your Caja health-care card, patience is your new superpower.
At first, this drove me wild.
Then I realized it was the very reason I came here — to slow down, breathe, and live more intentionally.
Pro tip: When a Tico shrugs and says “tranquilo, mae” (relax, dude), it’s not dismissal — it’s philosophy.
🏳️🌈 3. Community Is Everything for Queer Expats in Costa Rica
Before moving, I thought I’d simply find community.
What I didn’t expect was that I’d have to help build it.
Facebook and WhatsApp groups like Gay Expats in Costa Rica were my starting point, but real belonging came from supporting local queer-owned businesses — the cafés, surf schools, and yoga studios that double as safe spaces.
Each new friend led to another connection.
Within months, I had a chosen family that celebrated holidays, shared relocation tips, and showed up when I needed help translating government forms.
💬 “In Costa Rica, you don’t find community — you cultivate it.”
🏠 4. Housing and Bureaucracy: Bring Flexibility (and Copies)
Rent first, always.
Neighborhoods can feel different once you’ve lived through a rainy season.
A few lessons learned:
Paperwork takes longer than expected — tramitología is real.
Every document must be notarized — sometimes twice.
A good abogado migratorio (immigration lawyer) is worth their weight in coffee beans.
Keep extra digital and printed copies of everything — you’ll thank yourself later.
💵 5. Costa Rica Isn’t “Cheap,” But It’s Worth It
The cost of living depends entirely on your lifestyle.
You can live comfortably on $1,500 USD/month in smaller towns or double that in luxury beach areas.
Groceries: Local markets are affordable and full of fresh produce.
Utilities: Internet and electricity are reliable but not bargain-priced.
Healthcare: The public system (Caja Costarricense de Seguro Social) is excellent; many expats supplement with private plans.
You pay for safety, stability, and breathtaking beauty — a fair trade-off in my book.
🏳️⚧️ 6. Trans and Non-Binary Life
Trans visibility is growing rapidly here.
San José has gender-affirming clinics, and the government allows ID changes for gender markers.
Still, systemic gaps exist, especially outside major cities.
What makes the difference is community: trans-led collectives like Manos Diversas and events like TransPride CR are creating safer, more visible spaces every year.
🧭 7. You’ll Redefine “Home”
At first, I missed my old routines — Target runs, familiar faces, queer bars that felt like second homes.
But slowly, Costa Rica offered new versions:
Saturday farmers markets, queer beach meet-ups, coffee with neighbors who became family.
Moving here stripped away the noise and left what mattered — authenticity, connection, and peace.
🌈 What I’d Tell My Past Self
“Bring sunscreen, patience, and an open heart. You won’t regret any of them.”
If you’re considering the leap:
✅ Visit for a month before committing.
✅ Learn basic Spanish — it’s a sign of respect (“un cafecito, por favor” goes a long way).
✅ Choose places and partners verified as LGBTQ-friendly.
✅ Remember, moving abroad doesn’t erase who you are — it expands it.
💕 Final Thoughts: You Belong Here
Costa Rica gave me back something I didn’t know I’d lost — ease.
The ability to walk hand-in-hand without scanning the room.
The space to dream again.
If you’re looking for that too, this country just might be waiting for you.
Connect. Empower. Belong.
Explore verified partners, relocation resources, and community stories at OutinCostaRica.com.
Pura vida, versión queer. 🌴
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