TikTok Video Exposes the Truth About Leaving Connecticut for Florida

If you live in Connecticut or New York, you definitely know the type—people who can’t wait to leave. These are the future Floridians who’ve been giving the same unsolicited monologue for decades about how much it sucks up here. It’s too cold, too expensive, and they swear they’re headed to Florida the minute they get the chance.

They’ve been saying it forever—like their whole life here is just a long, cold prequel to the warm, sun-soaked paradise that awaits them in Orlando, Captiva, Marco Island, Naples, or—dare I say it—The Villages.

They hate it here… but magically, once they cross the Florida state line, everything’s going to change.

Well, let me tell you: many of these folks will come to regret that move. If you listen to my show (The I-95 Morning Show), you already know how I feel. The life you’ll lead in Florida is unrecognizable—and, frankly, way worse than what you’ve got here in the Nutmeg State.

When you’ve been sharing an opinion so loud and with so much conviction that you could kill a duck with it every day, you sometimes start feeling like you’re living in your own self-imposed echo chamber. And then—boom—a complete stranger comes along and makes the exact same point, just in a different way. And you’re like, "SEE? WHAT DID I TELL YOU?"

For me, that stranger is a guy I saw on TikTok recently, going by tcburkej. And this is what he had to say about the so-called "Great Florida Exodus."

@tcburkejI can’t tell you how hard my eyes roll when people living in Connecticut tell me how much they want to leave Connecticut♬ original sound - tcburkej

There’s a lot to unpack here. So, here’s a 10-point, slightly unhinged rant on why this guy is absolutely right—and why your undying love for the beach is seriously letting you down:

1. I have no idea what data set this guy is referencing—because, let’s be honest, in 2025 no one trusts anyone’s “facts” anymore. But I’m here to tell you, it doesn’t really matter. Whatever numbers he’s pulling from, he’s not wrong. For better or worse, I’ve been knee-deep in these stats for over a decade, and the overall story holds up across the board. The numbers might shift by a decimal point here or there, but the narrative stays the same: we’ve got some of the best of everything—healthcare, education, quality of life. More people are staying here or moving here than most people realize. And no, that decade in the data trenches isn’t a brag—it’s just my job. If I never had to read another statistical breakdown about where people live, move, work, or eat, I’d be thrilled. I don’t even care what people are doing or saying... until someone throws out something flat-out wrong—like “everyone’s moving to Florida.” Then, yeah, I get fired up.

2. Honestly, I’m begging you—ignore this guy. Ignore me too. If you want to move to Florida, by all means, go. It actually helps me out. Pack the car and hit the road. You’ll free up space on I-84, open up some desperately needed housing inventory here in Connecticut, and best of all, we’ll get a break from the endless monologues about how terrible it is up north. Everybody wins.

3. Everyone who pushes this “Florida is better” narrative sounds like a character in a bad heist movie: Just one more score and I’m out. But then what? Here’s the reality—even if you retire, life doesn’t stop. You still have to socialize, vote, go to the doctor, deal with everyday stuff, and be part of a community. You’re not spending every day on the beach, golfing, or fishing. That fantasy version of Florida life? It’s exactly that—a fantasy. Try imagining a life beyond the beach and the back nine for just a minute. I’m speaking from experience: the difference is night and day... and not in a good way.

4. It pains me to see intelligent people reduce themselves to one singular pursuit: warmth. If your only reason for leaving Connecticut for Florida is the weather, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. And look, I’m not trying to pick on anyone—I’ve got loved ones doing this exact song and dance. My parents are brilliant, thoughtful people... until this topic comes up. Then suddenly, they forget everything they’ve ever known about the world and turn into wide-eyed kids who just want to play in the pool. If your motivations go beyond simply enjoying physical warmth—or just hating the cold—Florida probably isn’t your place.

5. I moved to Florida—I did the whole thing. The food’s not as good, everything kind of looks the same, and a surprising number of people you meet are in the middle of a “fresh start.” But what happens when your Florida reboot doesn’t pan out? Do you just keep chasing the heat? Head to Death Valley next? Maybe the goal is to keep cranking up the temperature until your brain finally melts and you no longer have to carry the crushing awareness that you're a conscious human being on a planet full of never-ending, soul-numbing tasks. Just vibes and humidity.

6. Look, there are no absolutes. I get it—what I’m saying doesn’t apply to everyone. Somebody out there made it work. I’m sure there are people who left Connecticut for Florida, landed in a gorgeous community, never have to work again, and somehow found a whole crew of charismatic, like-minded friends to sip cocktails with all day. Good for them. They exist. Probably not but at least I've checked the "I don't know everything box."

7. Ever notice how often friends and family who’ve moved to Florida try to justify it? Constantly. No one posts more about the national weather than someone who left the Northeast for the Sunshine State. Every time one of my Florida friends shares a video of themselves basking in the sun while it’s 20 degrees here, I know exactly what’s going on. You know what that means, right? They looked up our weather. They’re still thinking about us—our freezing temps, our neighborhoods, our jobs, our pizza. Meanwhile, ask me what the temperature is in Montana right now. I have no idea. Why? Because I’m too busy living my life to give a f---.

8. If you move, say goodbye to bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches. Don’t even start with “I know a place.” I lived there—I know the deal. Sure, every now and then you’ll find a deli run by some homesick Northeastern transplants that almost nails it. But let’s be honest: what we have here is on another level. Up here, great BECs and the best pizza on Earth are everywhere—every corner, every plaza, every gas station, basically. It’s raining bacon, egg, and cheese in the Nutmeg State, and I’m just out here wandering the streets with my mouth wide open like it’s a food miracle.

9. My wife says I get a little too aggressive when I feel strongly about something—and this is definitely one of those topics. Trust me, what you’re hearing now? This is the soft version of the speech. I’m holding back. Believe me, I’ve got much more colorful language I’d love to use to describe the people, the scenery, the businesses, and the overall vibe of Florida. But I’m exercising restraint. Just... meditate on that.

10. I don’t want to hear from the “it depends on where you go” crowd. I wasn’t living in Ocala or Jacksonville—I lived on Marco Island and worked in Naples. These are two of Florida’s crown jewels, absolutely beautiful places. I’d recommend visiting either one for a vacation... but not to live.

P.S. Just to clear up any confusion (I’m good at causing that)—please, by all means, go to Florida. It took me 22 minutes to drive three miles in Danbury yesterday. We could really use the extra space.