A New Beginning in Delaware: Why We Left Utah for a Brighter Future

We’ve traded Utah’s mountains for Delaware’s shores, driven by a deep desire to give our daughters, Madi and Jules, a more inclusive world to grow up in. About a year ago, a series of incidents—coupled with feeling targeted at my job in Utah for speaking up—made it clear that Utah’s cultural landscape wasn’t the right fit for our non-white, non-Mormon family. With a new job opportunity and Madi starting kindergarten, the timing felt perfect for this move. While we won’t know for a few years if our girls would have faced exclusion in Utah, I didn’t want to wait to find out. Here’s why we took this leap and our hopes for a brighter future in Delaware.

A Growing Awareness of Microaggressions

For years, I brushed off microaggressions in Utah. As an American born and raised in Nevada, I faced questions like, “No, where are you really from?” at the hospital where I worked. People dismissed Nevada, hinting at my Filipino heritage in ways that felt reductive. Comments like “Filipino people are so nice and have great food” were meant as compliments but stung, reducing me to a stereotype. I’d smile to avoid conflict, but as a mother raising non-white daughters, staying silent wasn’t an option anymore. I wanted Madi and Jules to grow up where they’re valued for who they are, not judged by assumptions.

Feeling Targeted at Work

As I began speaking up at my job, advocating for what I believed was right, I felt targeted. Standing up against unfair treatment or outdated practices came with subtle pushback—cold shoulders, dismissive comments, or being sidelined in discussions. It was exhausting, and it made me question whether staying in Utah’s professional environment was sustainable. I didn’t want my daughters to see me shrink myself to fit in or face consequences for standing my ground. This growing tension at work reinforced my resolve to seek a better environment for our family.

The Tesla Incident: A Wake-Up Call

A car-buying experience in Pleasant Grove, Utah County, further opened my eyes. Erik and I chose a Tesla for its gas savings, but with no inventory in Salt Lake City, we went to Pleasant Grove. During delivery, I asked the Tesla employee to set up my driver profile alongside Erik’s. His response? “Well, I don’t see you as a signatory,” delivered with a dismissive glance. Furious, I said we didn’t want the car and called out his tone. Erik backed me up, and we ended the delivery abruptly. I’d been too complacent, staying quiet to keep the peace. I didn’t want Madi and Jules thinking this treatment was normal.

Feeling Out of Place

The Tesla incident made me notice subtle exclusion elsewhere—awkward stares in stores or at a gym I visited occasionally. On summer 2024 trips outside Utah, those uneasy feelings vanished in more diverse, welcoming places. While Utah is diversifying, some areas felt less inclusive, and I worried about how that might impact Madi and Jules as they grow. I didn’t want to wait years to see if they’d feel left out in school or social settings.

The Baby Shower That Sealed Our Decision

The final push came at my sister-in-law’s baby shower in Utah County. Arriving late with Madi and Jules, we entered a silent room of staring guests. Erik’s aunt waved us over, a small relief, but the homeowner’s loud, awkward greeting left Madi uneasy. As we prepared to leave, a friend of my sister-in-law asked her, right in front of us, “How do you know these children?” I said, “Excuse me?” but she turned away and repeated, “Seriously, how do you know these people?” My sister-in-law said, “Oh, these are my nieces,” only for her friend to reply, “Ugh, really?” I was livid but left quickly with the girls. In the car, I told Erik we couldn’t stay. With little family support and rare visits with relatives, staying in Utah felt isolating.

A New Job, A New Home, A New Hope

Those experiences, combined with feeling targeted at work, fueled my job search. I landed an exciting role at a hospital in Delaware, aligning with my career goals and offering a more diverse community. With Madi starting kindergarten, the timing was ideal for a fresh start. Since moving, Delaware’s inclusive vibe has been refreshing. My orientation trip to Dover showed a community where people seem open, free of the subtle judgment we faced in Utah. We’re hopeful this environment will let Madi and Jules thrive as their authentic selves.

Looking Forward with Optimism

Now settled in Delaware, we’re excited for what’s ahead. We moved to give Madi and Jules a chance to grow up in a place that celebrates their individuality, without the risk of feeling sidelined. The challenges at my Utah job and the unwelcoming moments we faced pushed us to seek a better path. While we won’t know for a few years if staying in Utah would have led to exclusion, this move feels right. Delaware’s warmth and diversity already feel like home, and we’re optimistic about the future we’re building.

Leaving Utah for Delaware was a bold step, driven by love for Madi and Jules and a need for a more inclusive environment—personally and professionally. We’ll miss so many dear friends and the stunning Utah mountains, even as we trade them for Delaware’s beautiful beaches. Though I felt Utah’s culture wasn’t aligned with what I wanted for my girls, I’ll always hold the state close to my heart for the memories we made. As we settle into this new chapter, we’re hopeful this move was the right choice for our family’s future. Have you ever moved for your family’s sake? Share your story in the comments—I’d love to connect over your journey!