Once you have lived in New York and made it your home, no place else is good enough.”
– John Steinbeck
Steinback was so very right.
September 4, 2005, is the day I moved into my dorm at Pace University in New York City. It had been my dream to live in NYC for as long as I could remember. And while I was nervous as this was my first real foray into adulthood, the promise of a new city to explore and to make my own was thrilling.
For me, New York City wasn’t just a new adventure. It was an opportunity to start anew. I had always felt like an outsider in my small hometown, like I didn’t quite belong despite living there for most of my childhood and adolescence. So I was hopeful that NYC would provide me with that feeling of belonging that I’d always craved.
And it did.
There is a reason why Frank Sinatra sang about NYC, “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere.” The city is not for the fainthearted. It can be ruthless, full of competition in every field, and street smarts are a must if you want to keep safe.
But if you hold your head high and keep your wits about you, this gorgeously complicated city will not only welcome you with open arms but keep you there in its warm embrace.
This is why New York City will always feel like home to me. It may seem like the largest city in the world, full of strangers and stranger customs, but in reality it is an amalgamation of tight neighborhoods and big families.
And I found a family of my own in the friendships I forged while I was there. I’ll never forget the kindness of my roommate, Lindsay, a native New Yorker (well, Long Islander) who took it upon herself to introduce me to her friends, wonderful people with big personalities and even bigger hearts. With them, I found a kinship because it turned out that we all were weirdos that had felt out of place in our small hometowns and were now discovering that we could be ourselves and feel comfortable about it together.
That friendship meant more to me than they’ll ever know, and I’ve never really told them why.
You see, when I moved to New York I wasn’t just trying to find a place where I belonged, I was escaping from paternal abuse. Someday I will expand on this but for now all you need to know is I didn’t even realize it at the time. I just remember my mother telling me to go, to get away. Looking back, though, I realize that was a huge part of my decision to leave.
But at the same time, I felt as if I was leaving my mother and my sister behind to deal with the problem and I could no longer protect them. This conflict of emotions was confusing to me. I was so happy to be away from the pain and the problems, but at the same time I felt guilty so I was never fully invested in my New York City life.
I’m afraid that because of this I was a rather bad friend to them all. But it didn’t matter to them, they still took care of me. They still loved me, even when I tried to push them away.
And that’s New York for you. New York and by de facto New Yorkers are tough so their love is tough and they are willing to love you no matter what you throw at them.
So, New York, I love you. New Yorkers, I love you even more. And to my New York family, I love you the most. Thank you for being there for me when I needed you.
Leave a Reply