Home > Boston...again. > New York, I love you. But you bring me down.

New York, I love you. But you bring me down.

All right. All right. I know I just posted something, but this topic just called for its very own post. And I know my posts lately have become epic and long, but there’s just something about Boston that’s getting me to write. And write and write. I love it though.

So here we go again. Get ready.

I was worried this weekend that going to New York City would make me second guess my decision to move to Boston. Everyone who knows me a little knows that for a long time I was hopelessly obsessed with Manhattan and moving there the second I graduated. So those same people were the ones who were skeptical about me suddenly choosing to move to Boston instead. Even I was a little skeptical. There’s always been a small nugget of fear in my mind that moving to Boston was a silly, irrational choice.

So let’s dissect this. I was so excited to go to New York this weekend. I had butterflies in my belly and I couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of seeing the city again. When I saw the city from the distance it took my breath away. From far away Manhattan is beautiful. It looks almost manageable. Just a little. I remember seeing it from the air a couple years ago and thinking how crazy it looked. The city is a living, breathing, growing thing. Each block is a different community in itself. Everything is constantly changing. There’s too much going on at once. The streets are teeming with life. Buzzing. And it’s funny how things can be so different from one block to another. One might be a little bit shady, but don’t worry. Keep walking and you’ll find yourself somewhere where you feel safe again.

In Manhattan there are millions of different people moving in a million different directions. The sidewalks are packed, and getting anywhere quickly requires the ability to dart in between the vague, slight spaces between people. It requires a little bit of weaving and ingenuity to find your way to your destination. Something is always going on right in front of your face. It requires you to be on your toes at all times and always be prepared for the unexpected. Because in New York? It will happen.

Manhattan is overwhelming and bustling and crazy and scary and alive and amazing. And it’s unltimately unapologetic for it, which is incredible. The city as a whole has an “in your face, this is what I am and you better get over it and get with it” persona and if you’re not prepared for it, you’re going to get knocked on your feet. And no one will pick you back up. No one will care. People step around the homeless man laying on the sidewalk, who is using a bunch of plastic bags as a pillow and an old shopping bag for a blanket. People will mill around him as though he is simply a rock in the middle of a stream. They don’t stop. I’m not even sure most of them notice. (I really did see this when I was there. Even now, thinking about it two days later, it makes me want to cry.) It’s understandable they don’t stop for that though. New York is one of those cities where if the focus is lost for just one minute or you take your eyes off your goal just for a second the chance will have passed you by. It’s unforgiving and requires dedication and sheer determination to make it.

The whole time I was in New York I kept thinking, “I am looking forward to going home.” The beautiful thing was (No offense, Mom and Dad. Seriously.), I didn’t mean “home” as in Midland, Texas. I meant Boston. I meant my beautiful Boston, with its clean streets and slow subway system and the Red Sox and the Pru. I missed it. I realized how comfortable I have come to feel in this fantastic city, and I was glad to get back.

Boston is so much more comfortable for me. I know where I am when I’m walking around. (More so now than when I moved here.) I love its quaintness. Boston is a city on a smaller scale and I love that, for now. The rushed feeling is there, but it’s not so pressing. I feel comfortable making conversation with strangers. I love that I can walk almost anywhere within 45 minutes. It feels more small town than New York and I love that because I still get the “big city” feel. It’s a great place to be young and be alive.

I know it takes time to get used to any city, and I know that if I were given time I would get used to New York. In all actuality New York is most likely where I will end up in the next five years or so. I’m OK with that. Looking forward to it, even.

But that little nugget of worry that I made the wrong decision is completely gone. It’s a beautiful thing. For now, I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Categories: Boston...again. Tags: , , ,
  1. JoJo
    February 16, 2010 at 2:48 am

    I am SO happy for you. You have more drive than anyone I know and I admire you for it.
    On the other hand, I am so jealous! You know how I am about Boston. I have pictures of it everywhere and I can’t wait to get there.

    Congratulations on your happiness 🙂

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