It’s approaching the one year mark to when I made the move
to New York City. A dream I’ve had since I can remember. "I want to dream in the
city that never sleeps." Seems like the year that my dreams came true should be
wrapped up and presented to you in a perfect satin bow, but as life is most
often, things are not always that simple. If I’m being very honest with you, I
knew before I officially moved that this was probably not going to be the end
to all my plans. However, I did fully commit to my decision and planned on this being my new home for a long time. I don’t do well with confinement. Feeling trapped, committed
to with no way out. My mother jokes that when I was a child she would put me to
bed and tuck me in. “Snug as a bug in a rug”, she’d say, and I instead of being
comforted by the safety and warmth, I felt trapped and suffocated and I would
scream and cry and usually slept with one foot outside the covers. Not much has
changed in my adult life. While stability, structure, and organization are all
things I desperately crave, flexibility, transparency and openness are also
extremely important to me. I say all this to make the point that I can not feel
too “tied down” to anything. I have a feeling this makes me sound a lot more
whimsy and free-spirited than I intend it to. So please stay with me here. Upon
my arrival there were many tearful nights had. Nights where I felt like this
big bad city was too intimidating to face every single day. Every day I would
try to challenge myself to do a little more than the last. Whether it be walk
on a different side of the sidewalk or try a different coffee shop. Eventually
I made a deal with myself to try something new every week. I’m proud to say,
I’ve pretty much kept that promise to myself to this day.
Coming here, I knew
only 1 person. A coworker. In fact, it was with his help that I was able to get
this job and move in the first place. We worked together shortly in Austin, and
when he was given the job, the title we shared, I was so excited for him. I did
not know him well, but I took the time to send him a personal message to say I
was so happy for him and that he was so deserving of the promotion. As time
passed, I decide to reach out to him to find out more about the project and
learn more about the position. I expressed to him that I was very interested
and was honest with him about me wanting to move to New York. I told him this was
all aligned with what I wanted to pursue, and I couldn’t believe our company
was heading this amazing initiative. Eventually, with a lot of effort on my end
and direction on his, I made it up there. He was so happy for me and very
welcoming. Before the move he offered himself so selflessly and told me if I
ever needed anything to let him know. I remember saying that I didn’t want to impose,
and his response was “not possible”. One evening I was home on Facebook
scrolling on my feed. Nothing out of the usual. Then I saw a photo of my
friend, the one person I knew in New York. The guy who so kindly helped me with
this very difficult transition. It was a tagged post. Written by his mother. I
must of read it 10 times before it actually sunk in. He was gone. Just like
that. My stomach dropped, and my heart sank. My immediate reaction was this can
not be true. I took a screenshot of the picture and I sent it to my coworker. I texted
her almost in effort to convince me it wasn’t true. She confirmed it. The next
days were not a blur, like many say, but actually permanently permeated in my
brain forever. We met his family. We watched them grieve ever so gracefully. I
watched them in awe and with so much empathy. I kept thinking I can not imagine
what they must be feeling. It broke my heart. It still does to this day.
Coworkers shared their stories of him and many looked to me to share more since
we knew each other from back home. The truth is I didn’t know him all that
well. In fact, not very well at all. I attempted to reach out and offer my
friendship once before, but he politely declined. He said he should “probably
try to make friends with people he didn’t know”. I didn’t take offense to it, I
probably was a huge annoyance to him constantly asking him questions about work
and how to get around, where to eat, and what have you. But of course having
lost him made me think back and questioned if I should of tried harder. There
were moments where I thought this doesn’t seem like him, the little I know,
this seems out of character for him. I thought, I should try again and ask him
if everything is okay. But I didn’t in fear of “freaking him out”. I thought he
is going to think I’m weird or something. I should just give him his space. And
just like that I never got another opportunity. When people shared their
memories of him there was always a common theme. His kindness, his
intelligence, his humor. He was a truly remarkable person. This loss will
forever stay with me. I’ve never lost a friend before. To be completely selfish
for a moment, it felt like this big bad city chewed him up. He
was devoured by New York. My anxiety was at an all time high. Every noise
outside my door was a monster trying to break in. Every siren was another
death, an alarm, a loss. My fear began to consume me. Any little progress I
made in the city immediately regressed. I decided to see a therapist to talk
through all of these fears. I tried to explain that it was not normal for me to
be afraid that my buzzer was actually a threat, an intruder coming to steal or
harm me. I saw her for about 5 weeks. I started to feel that she wasn’t quite
understanding me and tried to process everything on my own. I struggled with sharing my feelings about what happened, but it did. I can only speak for my personal feelings of what happened. I have nothing but respect and love for my friend and his family.
With time, the loss of my friend was becoming a little
easier to deal with. I struggled with letting go of the pain and moving on
because I felt he had to be respected and remembered. But the people around me
didn’t want to talk about it anymore. They had to process this loss too. I had
to respect their healing as well. I began to really make an effort to try new
things. Take classes, go to museums, go on dates. Many people ask me what
dating in New York is like. In my experience, its’ not much different than it
is anywhere else, although with one major factor. People are a little jaded.
There are over 8 million people in Manhattan alone. If you are not an instant
match to this person, there will be another. On to the next. I also feel it is
a lot more transnational than what I’m used to. Dating culture today as a whole
is very much casual and little to no commitment, however here I find that guys
often try to tell me what they think I want to hear. “I am really looking to
get married, and have kids in the next 2 years” or “I have so much money”, or
“Has anyone ever told you, you are so beautiful”? Umm, yes. I am almost 30
years old. You really think you are the first person who has every objectively
thought that I am attractive? Come on, guys. Step it up. Of course, I am a
little jaded too. So all these statements were quite clear to me in their
intentions. I do often think, that there must many girls who maybe do not see
through these lines. Who take those backhanded compliments and think they were
given with the intention to gain affection and give love. For those girls I
say, know your worth.
With a year of being single, I’ve started to see a pattern in men’s behavior. Positive patterns, I think. (Some)Men are selfish. Why is this positive? Well, they do not think twice about taking a trip alone on their birthday (or yours) because they want to. They don’t feel as if anything or anyone is missing. They decide they want to see a place, book it, and go. Probably don’t even tell you until they’re there. Men will haggle about everything until they get their way. Whether it be the price of a cab. The entry pay to their new job. Dinner. Or with you about something they want. They are not ashamed or embarrassed. What I’ve learned about men, is they run their lives like they are the CEO of their life. They make the decisions for better or for worse. I realized I was running my life like an employee. Hoping that this decision was acceptable. Would it steer me toward my goal? Is it okay with this person or that person? Am I going to hurt his or her feelings? I’ve decided I need to take a note from these men I’ve met and start running my life like a CEO. No one know their “path”. You can’t really map out your life. What you can do is research your choices to see if they make financial sense and then emotional sense. Will it make me financially secure, and will it make me happy? It’s that simple. With this new attitude, I’ve decided New York City is no longer where I want to be. It does not make financial sense and I am not happy. My stepdad had a stroke in November. Worst than his last. Left him debilitated and basically bed ridden for months. My mom became an instant full-time care taker. I cried and cried for days feeling helpless. My mother contemplating decisions that were heart breaking and unthinkable just weeks before. I knew I had to come home. My sister is having another baby, and with her son and daughter growing up it is nearly impossible to help my parents in their situation. I felt a duty to my family. To be there and help them as much as I can. I don’t know that there is much I can do. My stepdad is progressing and gets better every day, but there is still a difficult road ahead for my parents and family. And you know what, I don’t want to miss it. I want to be there. I want them to know I have their back. I’ve contemplated what this decision really means. Questioned, am I giving up? What could have been? Could I of stuck it out longer? And the answers to those questions, I may never really know. Maybe I am giving up, but I realized that don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Living in New York is fantastic, but it is a series of sacrifices. Every single day is like a battle. Facing the world to buy milk is an achievement. For some people, I’m sure, this is the best city in the world. I can certainly see why, but it also incredibly taxing. (Figuratively and literally – Did you know that you are taxed by the state and the city?). I will always look back at this time in my life and be very proud I did this. I did it alone. No one to greet me at the end of my day, no one to make me dinner or even ask if I’ve eaten dinner. I’ve learned a lot, and I’m not just saying that. If one day my niece tells me she wants to pack up and move to New York for college or whatever it may be. I’ll support her, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she’s set up for success. But I’ll also make her read this essay. Study the pain in the words. People warned me it would be hard, and I probably arrogantly shrugged off their concerns in pure blissful ignorance, but you truly do not know what something is like until you try it. And I’m glad I did. If my niece one day wants to try it she’ll probably blissfully and cluelessly shrug off my warnings, but I’ll be there to boost her in support of those dreams. Not many people where I’m from end up doing what they dream to do. I say that often and I mean it. I don’t take it lightly. We have to work 100 times harder than the average person to achieve the same, but something we have going for many of us is hunger. Hunger for more than we were told we deserved. I’ll never settle until I’m full. (Regardless of the city I reside in).