One year. One year in New York City. One year of going the wrong way on the train, shoving tourists out of the way, discovering my new favorite places and getting lost in the best way possible.
I like to write year-end entries (didn’t do it this year) and birthday entries (I was late last year, but can this kind of be a birthday entry too?). A lot has happened in between. Two full-time jobs, one part-time job, great new friends, multiple breakdowns. The tears, the heartache, the -$67.54 in my bank account. All worth it. To be young in New York City.
Ancient roller coasters of Coney Island, Madison Square Garden concerts, pretending to be Blair Waldorf, having breakfast at Tiffany’s, yelling at sporting events, finding a new part of Central Park every time I go there. The thought of having to move apartments. Thinking I met ~the one~ and getting my heart broken. The anxiety that just follows you.
I made a list of mid-year goals. Be more active - yoga, stretch, meditate. WRITE. Volunteer. Cook something new once a week. Make more playlists - you used to love making playlists! Actually plan #Italy2020. Even go alone. Visit museums. Walk around and learn more. Learn Spanish and Italian words.
I’ve learned a lot during this past year in New York. I’ve learned a lot about men, dating in New York and that “Sex and the City” had it completely right about both men and dating in New York. I’ve made some amazing friends. People I will consider my longtime friends. I’ve been “on my own” before but this is different. I truly have the freedom and capabilities to do whatever my heart desires. No schoolwork. I quit my job on a whim. I go out on Monday nights and stay out. I make conversations with strangers. I want to give. I want to experience. I want to see everything and do everything.
Two years out of college. Two years of feeling helpless and hopeless. Neil Young sings, “24 and there’s so much more.” I’m 24, I love New York, but I have to believe there’s so much more. I refuse to feel helpless and hopeless anymore. There’s so much more to life. I love Los Angeles. Should I live there one day? And the heat of the south. Would I be good there? I haven’t been to the mountains of Washington state yet either. Will I love that?
I moved to New York with no expectations. I don't know what I expected. But in a way, it has exceeded all expectations. I’m always in a rush. Why else would I be going the wrong way on the train, shoving tourists out of the way and getting lost? Slow - and I cannot stress this enough - down. You don’t have to have your dream job, your dream apartment, dream man, dream closet. These things take time. And patience. Which I don’t have but somehow New York has made me more patient. I’ve learned to not rush. Take time to go the wrong way on the subway, maybe not shove a tourist and get lost to discover something new.
I want to say “I love you” and talk about my feelings without my voice cracking. Dating has somehow taught me it’s okay to do (at least one of) those things. Don’t beat yourself for always being the youngest person in the office, for having the lowest level job, for not having a date to the company event. I want to talk to my friends about everything. And I’m learning to do that. Working to say “I love you” and talk about my feelings without my voice cracking. New York has somehow taught me it’s okay to do those things.
I'm young in NYC.