New York City is a complicated beast. Not an evil, maniacal beast (although it can feel like that sometimes). More like a dragon. Powerful and immense and beautiful. And conquering a dragon is like conquering New York City. For me, conquering the dragon of NYC has been a 10-year struggle, one that still not sure who came our ahead. I’m not a native New Yorker. But am I New Yorker? I go back and forth with those thoughts. I do know that I love this city as intensely as anyone loves anything. Your first love can break you, make you feel things you didn’t think were there, and change you into a different, sometimes better person. And New York totally did these things to me. And New York, I love you. Especially after ten years, and I will always love you.
What were you doing when you were 22? Graduating from college and figuring out life? Or maybe you already had a clear picture of what your life path was and were immersed in it already. Well, when I was 22 I had just graduated from college and immediately after that I migrated escaped to New York City. Four years in Los Angeles, prefaced by a lifetime of small-town living left me feeling suffocated and the only way I saw to escape it was move 3,000 miles away to the big, bad city. And then I came to New York. Without a job, a place to live, or any friends. And it was amazing. And really scary. But mostly amazing. I started babysitting, researching, and even working at Starbucks. Exploring the city, dating in the city, and pretty soon I had an amazing group of friends exploring the same adventures as me, dancing on bars at 2 am on a Tuesday, and reminiscing over brunch, and baking brownies way past midnight. I came to the city with a pessimistic outlook on life, little faith in people, and just trying to figure out where I fit in and what I was supposed to be. Over the years, I fell in love with the energy of this city, discovered professional passion, and made the best friends ever.
You never forget your first love. You know what I’m talking about: head-over-heels, infatuation, lusty love. Love so intense you can’t imagine a life without them. But then things get jaded. And you grow bored and you need to “date around.” And escaping to another city isn’t really the best solution for any jaded New Yorker. I broke up with New York in May 2011. I was over it, bored, looking for something better. I didn’t even look back as I drove out of the city and south for a new adventure. I got with DC a few months later. And what and adventure you were, DC. City living in the heart of a small town. But then I began comparing you to New York. Nothing was ever as exciting, as inappropriate, as beautiful. I missed New York and I was blaming DC. This is when I say it’s not you, it’s me. This is what you say when the city is wonderful and amazing and exciting. Just not for you. I call myself a New Yorker, because I don’t really know where else I fit in. I love the sun and 70 degree days but I also love excitement and adventure. NYC doesn’t judge. It doesn’t spit you out if you don’t drive the right car. Or wear the right jeans. It just takes you as you are. No questions asked. Nowhere else is there a greater melting pot of rich and poor, fashionistas and yogis, businessmen and hipsters, spoiled kids and surprisingly well-adjusted kids. And all of this totally works. Through all the moving around and all the times of being the new kid, I’ve never felt more at home that when I’m rushing to the subway, or falling asleep to yellow taxis honking in Brooklyn. Even though I’m probably ready for some peace and quiet. From a girl who never belonged anywhere, I found my footing in New York. New York is my city. My heart belongs in New York City. And it will never leave. Even if I am.
So let’s say goodbye with best friends, new friends, cupcakes (obviously), prosecco, NYC bucket lists, and forever memories. I’m going on an adventure. But conquering this city, in my own way, is the greatest adventure I’ve ever had.
Bicoastal Surf 