Why moving for taxes is a prison sentence

Hey there, solopreneur!

Something became embarrassingly obvious to me last week as I was driving my new car around Cyprus – a place I'd chosen primarily for its 12.5% corporate tax rate.

There I was, on my way home to put together a squat rack that took 3 weeks to get delivered (because, you know, island + EU logistics), when I realized the perfect metaphor for my situation:

I'd built a technically optimized life that was incredibly difficult to actually live in.

Two years ago, I was that guy – spreadsheets open, calculating tax savings, feeling like I'd cracked some secret code that other entrepreneurs were missing. My German tax bill was hovering around 50%, and I'd convinced myself that this was the problem holding me back from real success.

Plot twist: I was solving the wrong equation entirely.

Here's what nobody tells you about tax optimization: When you organize your entire life around a percentage, you end up dividing yourself in the process.

This isn't just another "I moved abroad and here's what I learned" story. It's a raw look at how chasing tax efficiency can accidentally become tax exile – and all the invisible costs that come with it.

Because after spending two years in one of Europe's most popular tax havens, I've learned something that my spreadsheets never showed me: The price of tax optimization isn't paid in euros or dollars – it's paid in much more valuable currencies.

Let me unpack exactly what I mean...

lesson 1: the prison of day-counting

Remember when I thought moving away from Germany's 50% tax rate would bring freedom? Instead, I found a different kind of constraint.

Life in a tax haven revolves around numbers, but not the kind you'd expect. Every decision, every trip, every family visit becomes a complex calculation of days. Cyprus's 60-day residency requirement sounds simple on paper, but it transforms your life into a constant mathematics equation.

The spontaneity that makes life worth living? It completely disappears when you're always counting days in your head.

Always wondering if you can afford to leave for that surprise opportunity or family emergency in Germany because you don’t wanna accidentally trigger tax residency in another country.

I traded one form of constraint for another, and somehow convinced myself this was optimization.

lesson 2: the hidden costs of distance

Being in a tax haven means choosing to distance yourself from the actual centers of innovation and growth. I severely underestimated the importance of being close to what I call "poles of time."

The real action happens in places like San Francisco, Austin, Lisbon, and Singapore.

These hubs crackle with energy and opportunity – the kind that no tax break can replicate. The financial upside of being near these centers of gravity often far outweighs whatever you might save in taxes.

Key losses include:

• Spontaneous meetings that turn into partnerships

• The energy of being around other builders

• The natural flow of opportunities

• The pulse of innovation

lesson 3: tax havens attract people with the wrong mindset

Here's something I've noticed that nobody talks about: Places with aggressive tax advantages create communities built on scarcity rather than abundance.

The conversations here never center around creation or growth. Instead, they're dominated by elaborate schemes to save more, pay less, protect what exists. It's a fundamental mindset problem that affects everything from business relationships to social connections.

What's worse is how this manifests in the local community. No one thinks to build anything lasting because they're all just passing through.

Think about it: When was the last time you heard of someone opening a community space or organizing meaningful local events in a tax haven?

Doesn’t happen very often. Tbh, it’s because tax havens attract relatively selfish people.

lesson 4: the identity crisis nobody discusses

When I lived in Berlin, being a Berliner meant something. It was more than an address – it was an identity I wore proudly. But in Cyprus? I'm just another expat running a company, here for the numbers and nothing more.

This creates a profound sense of rootlessness that no one warns you about.

You can't really identify with your new home because you chose it for its tax code, not its culture.

Meanwhile, your connection to your old home slowly fades, which leaves you in some strange kind of limbo.

lesson 5: the “home” that never really feels like home

Here's the reality of optimizing for taxes: you end up living a fractured life.

When your "home" is chosen for financial reasons, you find yourself constantly traveling to maintain real connections. The math looks something like this:

• Quarterly trips back to see family.

• Monthly flights to maintain business relationships.

• Regular escapes to places with more energy.

You end up spending so much time traveling that you never fully commit to creating a proper home base.

I noticed this in my own space - I never quite committed to buying the perfect desk setup or investing in my dream home here. Why? Because somewhere in my mind, this place was always temporary.

You end up living in this perpetual 70% state - not quite settled, not quite moving.

lesson 6: the societal alignment that actually matters

Here's what I've realized matters far more than tax rates: living in a society that actually values what you do.

My real problem with Germany wasn’t just the 50% tax rate - it's the fundamental anti-entrepreneurship sentiment that pervades society.

When I reflect on what really pushed me away from my home country, it wasn't just the high taxes.

It was the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) message that entrepreneurship is somehow extractive, greedy, or even evil. That cultural attitude affects everything - from daily interactions to business opportunities to how you feel about your own work.

This is the conversation we should be having. Instead of obsessing over tax percentages, we should be asking:

Does this society support builders and creators? Do I feel aligned with the fundamental values of this place? These questions matter far more than any tax advantage.

lesson 7: the true cost of transient living

Living in a place where everyone's just passing through fundamentally changes how you build relationships. This isn't just about friendship – it's about the basic human need for community and connection.

I've watched friends disappear for months at a time, returning briefly to maintain their residency status before vanishing again.

The community never solidifies because it's in constant flux. You end up with dozens of surface-level connections but few deep bonds. Shitty for long-term living.

lesson 8: the infrastructure reality check

Living on an island for tax benefits means accepting a permanent state of logistical complexity. Simple tasks become multi-step challenges.

Want to order something online? Prepare for a weeks-long adventure involving multiple shipping services and countless forms.

You never quite settle in properly because everything feels temporary. Your home setup remains perpetually "almost there" because the effort required to make it perfect seems pointless when you're not fully committed to staying.

The daily friction of these small inconveniences adds up to a constant reminder that you've chosen a place for its tax code rather than its actual livability.

my path forward

I'm leaving Cyprus next year.

Not because it's a bad place – it's beautiful in many ways. But because I've learned that the true cost of tax optimization isn't measured in percentages.

For anyone considering this move, here's my hard-earned advice:

If you wouldn't live there without the tax advantage, don't live there for the tax advantage.

Life's too short to treat it like an accounting exercise. And no tax saving is worth the cost of putting your actual life on hold.

That said, I don't regret this experiment at all. These 2 years taught me invaluable lessons about what truly matters in life – lessons I couldn't have learned any other way.

Sometimes you have to optimize for the wrong thing to discover what the right things are.

Ole's Bookmarks

I really love minimal design for homes (this is quite extreme though LOL). This year I want to spend more time learning about interior design.

How Relationships Shape Your Brain (Huberman podcast). This episode inspired me to focus more on right-brain activity again: creating music, being in nature, or being with close friends.

Good Inside by Dr. Becky Kennedy. Started reading this as one of the first books I've bought about parenting. If you have any recommendations, please send them my way!

My thoughts on loneliness for internet founders^

That's all for this week.

To building lives worth living,

Ole