Oh, the Places You'll Go
Contemplating city kid life, suburban splendor, and the burden of choice.
Growing up in New York gives you a complex. And I don’t mean living just across the river in New Jersey, or living in Westchester (no shade if you do happen to live there)—I mean growing up in New York City. Real city kids take the public MTA bus to middle school and grab a bagel and iced coffee combo on their lunch break from a trusted food cart or bodega. They take school trips to the MET museum and have their school field days on an open lawn in Central Park. They grow up with one of the greatest cities in the world as their playground.
I moved to New York City when I was 6. I celebrated my 7th birthday at the American Girl Store Café with my mom and tÃas—I hadn’t made any new friends yet, but I was completely enamored with the splendor of my new hometown. By the time I was in high school, I felt like I had earned my stripes as a true New Yorker. I’d go visit my grandparents in other states and bemoan the lack of public transportation, the unimpressive selection of restaurants, and the sleepiness of their small towns with retirees and nuclear families. Where were the Wall Street bros? Where were the world-class art collections? Where were the towering skyscrapers, bike lanes, and Broadway rush tickets?
At this point in the article, my close friends and family are probably laughing. Anyone who’s spoken to me in the last 5 years knows that my tune has changed quite drastically. I wouldn’t call myself a New York hater, but I’ve definitely distanced myself from the city that raised me. Whereas many of my childhood friends scurried to return to the city after a brief stint away in college, I worked hard to stay away.
The truth is, I don’t think my authentic adult self fits in to New York very well. On the one hand, it’s a city of multitudes; a place where anyone and everyone can find grounds for self-expression, inspiration, and community. Whatever your special interest is, no matter how niche, I’m sure you could find someone who shares your passion amongst the 9 million+ residents New York City.
But the whole city shares an insatiable drive and energy that I got tired of keeping up with. My early schooling trained me to fit into the preferred career tracks of the city: medicine, law, finance, business, academia… I was in an environment that would have encouraged and supported my pursuit of any of these career fields.
But I dreamed of frolicking through green fields filled with fragrant flowers and four-leaf clovers. My unique affliction of artistic angst simply does not vibe with the pace of city life. That isn't to say there aren’t thriving artists, or peaceful people, or nature lovers in New York—there definitely are plenty of each. But I have fallen in love with other ways of living.
The world is big. As a child, New York City felt like the biggest, greatest place in the world. I watched my city’s skyline grace movies theater screens and front page news articles and assumed that I lived in the center of the world. But even the biggest cities are dwarfed in comparison to the expanse of the global stage.
My parents moved to Florida a few years ago, and I moved down South with them. In some ways, the move was a long time coming. They were planning for retirement and wanted proximity to my extended family that was based here. But it was a huge cultural transition for all of us finally exiting the bubble of city life.
I found myself being thoroughly seduced by the allure of our newfound suburbia. People said good morning to me on my morning walks around the neighborhood. I could sit on a sunny patio and do my work without the sound of taxis and ambulances and people out on a walk. My neighborhood yoga studio was big and clean and affordable. The air smelled cleaner. The beaches weren’t littered with floating chip bags (at least, some of the beaches). The sky was so dark that you could see the stars at night. And most wonderfully, I could hang out with my family more often than once a year. I could attend school play performances and give my aunt her birthday gift in person.
I no longer had the world at my fingertips, but I had everything I needed. Slowly but surely, I started falling out of touch with the New York state of mind. I no longer knew which restaurants were the trendiest, or what new gallery was opening at the museum in the fall. But these losses felt small in comparison to what I gained.
It felt like Florida was resetting my nervous system. Warm air, sunshine, family hugs, quiet nights for sleeping… all of a sudden, daily didn’t feel quite so challenging. And in the freedom of wide open highways and big, sunny skies, I found renewed energy for self-reflection and creative expression. My outfits got cuter and my writing got better. I became a little more sure of myself, and for that, I’ll always have Florida to thank.
As you likely know, I’m no longer based in Florida. I jumped the pond to live with my husband in London, and I’m still piecing together how I feel about this new city. But currently, we’re visiting my family for the Easter holidays, so I find myself back in this beautiful place which I feel so lucky to have called home for a few short years.
My prayer going forward is that God shows me where I belong long-term. ‘Place’ is one of the concepts I find myself contemplating the most often. How much are we really influenced by where we live? How much of our experience of a place is based on our mindset and perspective? Does the air and water and food of a place sink into our bones and change our biology in a way that makes us a different person than we would be somewhere else? And if you don’t have the opportunity to move elsewhere, how do you find growth and meaning right where you are planted?
For me, all of this folds in to the idea of mindfulness. I never want to get so wrapped up in work, worries, or fun that I forget to be present and grateful.
So wherever you are today—whether you hate the weather, or can’t stand the people, or feel completely overstimulated and overwhelmed—take this as your encouragement to be mindful of it. Does God have you there for a reason? Do you have a purpose there? If so, then live it wholeheartedly! And if you know, deep down in your bones, that it’s time to leave… then take courage, and let me wish you a bon voyage.
I’m a new yorka