In the dimly lit dancefloor at 2 a.m., I overheard Jacinda Ardern's husband announce their move to Australia. I don't blame them. The news, delivered in a way only possible in New Zealand, came as a surprise to me. I was at the final Splore festival in Tāpapakanga, one of our longest-running and arguably most beautiful festivals, when Clarke Gayford, Jacinda Ardern's husband, appeared next to me, dressed as a giant toadstool. He said to a man in funereal pirate garb, "Yeah, we're moving to Sydney. Can't wait!" Perhaps it was the perfect tracklist at 2 a.m., or the breaking news from the horse's mouth, but I felt thrilled for our former first couple. Like Splore, New Zealand has the hangover of a party being cancelled and the lights going out. I, too, have informally exited the country, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. The daily deep humiliation of our current government proved too much. Just this week, our prime minister announced that the government is giving police officers new powers to move on rough sleepers or people displaying disorderly behavior in town and city centers. Breaching an order risks a fine of up to NZ$2,000 or a three-month jail term. Instead of investing in infrastructure to support the most vulnerable, authorities want to sweep the problem under the rug and punish them for it. It's a humiliating policy from a self-proclaimed 'progressive nation'. It's no surprise that many Kiwis are leaving for a nation with more capacity for embarrassment: Australia. Australia and New Zealand are close in many ways, but we are still different countries. Moving from your homeland isn't easy, even when Medicare access is straightforward and work visas are guaranteed. In the week before my one-way flight to Melbourne last year, I felt an enormous pull to stay. But the excitement and possibility of a new life proved ultimately overpowering. How intoxicating to live in a city where I didn't need to own a car because the public transport system is functional. One where I could afford vegetables. I had been living in Naarm for three full days when I had the smug satisfaction of knowing that I had done the right thing in joining the 200-odd people fleeing New Zealand every day. The signs were all there, notably the price of apartments, botox, and cucumbers (the holy trinity). Many of my friends have felt the same. One of my dearest friends, another creative in his 30s, moved around the corner. When I texted him to ask why he had made the jump across the ditch, he said, 'It felt hard to do something new with my life in New Zealand. Increasingly, it felt like the place was being tailored to suit an older generation, rather than us. Like the only option for people our age was to be trapped in a Mazda SUV on the Northern Motorway with children in car seats in the back.' I have marveled that people my age in Australia have healthy social lives and actually invest in their local communities. It's shocking to see disposable income and its positive economic impact. New Zealand might have greener pastures, but financially, the land of Oz glows in Technicolor. Our minimum wage is roughly A$19 an hour, and the average rent in Auckland in 2025 was more than $2,000 a month. Make it make sense! I'm an actor/writer/comedian with no kids. If I can't make it work, I sure as hell don't understand how families are surviving (fun fact, one in seven NZ children are living in hardship). I love New Zealand. It's my home. I will always come back! But life is for living. Jacinda, Clarke, and Neve deserve every bit of happiness, even if it is across the Tasman. I'm right there with them, rejoicing in affordable cucumber slices and a wrinkle-free forehead. Johanna Cosgrove is an award-winning actor/writer/comedian. She will perform her show Sweetie at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and is now in New Zealand filming an exciting top-secret feature film.
