You're not what you thought you were.
On New York, main character energy, and reconciling with the person you turned out to be.
What happens when you don’t become the person you thought you would be?
Last week, my husband and I took a 5-day trip to New York City. Somehow, neither of us had been before, despite pushing 30.
Since I was about 9 years old, probably, I was obsessed with NYC. Coming from a small, rural town where I never felt like I fit in, I was determined that someday I would live in Manhattan and have a cool bar or coffee shop that all my friends went to every day and I would probably be a famous fashion designer or work at a prestigious magazine.
I was raised on 00s rom-coms and sit-coms and all the other type of coms that romanticized New York, and city life in general, where young and beautiful and preternaturally witty people had grand adventures, and went to work maybe once or twice in a 28-episode season. Even when they were miserable, everything still seemed glamorous and full of possibility because they lived in New York Fucking City.
All of this to say, since I was a child, I was determined to live in a big city, preferably NYC. But the older I got, the more I realized how much of a homebody I was. I can count on one hand the amount of “proper” parties I went to in college, always much more content to sit on the couch with my roommates, eating takeout and watching shitty movies til the wee hours. I hated traffic, I hated crowds, I was constantly exhausted from working to pay for my college classes and never wanted to go out.
A couple years after college, the opportunity to move to Chicago for a new job fell into my lap, and after a bit of hesitation, I leapt for it. Growing up in Michigan, Chicago was the main attainable vacation city, and I’d spent plenty of long weekends there.
Finally, I thought, I could fulfill my dreams of living in a big city. I could get my feet wet and maybe graduate to NYC when the time was right.
But I was shocked and dismayed to discover that my personality hadn’t drastically changed once I moved there. I avoided downtown as much as possible, getting increasingly annoyed with the gaggles of tourists and chain stores. Even though there were thousands of restaurant options in a fairly small vicinity, I stuck to the same 4-5. I hated how long it took to get anywhere on the train or bus, and I disliked the area that I’d chosen to live due to its proximity to work.
When I would visit home, family and friends would ask how I liked living in the big city, and I’d respond like a cartoonishly crabby old woman. Too many people, too big, too loud.
The reality, I suppose, was culture shock. I was coming from a rural midwestern college town that felt like a thriving metropolis compared to my hometown because it had an Olive Garden and a Target.
But beyond that, I was forced to reckon with the fact that I had grown to become the exact opposite of what I assumed I would be as a child. I didn’t want to stay out late, I didn’t want to go dancing and drinking to the wee hours of the morning. None of my friends lived anywhere near me and I wasn’t all that interested in making new ones.
This brings me back to New York.
I finally made it to one of my top-of-the-bucket-list places and all I could think was… why is it SO loud? Why is there trash and grafitti everywhere, even in the poshest areas? Why are there so many goddamn people?!
I was super overwhelmed the first day there. It gradually subsided into mild annoyance and yes, I did manage to enjoy myself, though we were back to our hotel by 8pm every night.
I got to visit historic monuments and shops and restaurants I’d been dreaming of for years. I ate delicious food and marveled at all the fashionable people I saw on the street. I posed with glasses of champagne on dizzying rooftops for Instagram. But my reigning thought by the end was “I’m ready to go home.”
When friends and family asked me, “Well, how was it? You’ve been dreaming of it for so long!” I could only sigh and say, “It was fun but overwhelming!” Everyone seemed a bit disappointed with that answer, myself most of all.
For so long I’ve been chasing the person I thought I should be because I dreamed her up one lonely, rural Midwestern day. I haven’t stopped to think about the fact that I’ve become a pretty cool person who, in a lot of ways, resembles that woman I’d daydreamed about. But she hates crowds and loud noises and late nights and she’s not getting any younger, and she’s accepted the fact that most of the time, she’s happiest at home with her routines and habits.
I still live in Chicago, though in a much quieter neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. I can’t see any buildings taller than six floors from my window, but I could be on Michigan Ave. in 15 minutes if the trains are on time. It seems like the perfect balance, and I’ve come to accept that. Just don’t call it a suburb and we’re golden.
To Read
The Lonely City by Olivia Laing
Full disclosure, I haven’t actually finished this book, despite having it on my shelf for nearly two years now. But it fits so well in with today’s musings that I had to add it to the list.
It’s a memoir of sorts, I suppose, about the author’s experience moving to New York in her mid-30s by herself. She discusses the loneliness seemingly inherent to that stage in life, and seeks to discover more about the human race’s relationship to loneliness through the art and culture of the city.
To Listen
Main Character Energy on Spotify
Good songs for walking down the street on a sunny day and feeling like the main character in an indie coming of age story, even if you’re pushing 30.
To Buy
Trader Joe’s Dill Pickle chips
I would humbly consider myself a connoisseur of dill-pickle-flavored chips. I’ve had just about every one on the market, and they all taste good. But I grabbed these on my latest Trader Joe’s snack run, and oh my lord – these chips literally taste like a pickle. Not just, generally dill-y like the rest of them, it tastes like you’re biting into a crisp, cool dill pickle. How? I do not know. Black magic, probably. But I can’t recommend them enough.
To Scroll
I came across Ashley’s feed from a collaboration she did with Apartment Therapy on how to turn any figuring into an adorable table lamp. I’m beyond obsessed with her style and home – look at these colors!! Brb, painting everything in my house chartreuse.
