The New York-aversary

One year, two months, and 12 days. That’s how long I’ve lived in this crazy concrete jungle finding tiny nooks devoid of tourists to call my own.

A year ago, I didn’t know what to expect from this adventure. I bravely told people I was departing for NYC, embarking on a life-changing experience. Obviously, I had no idea what would unfold.

My very first day in NYC, I received a phone call about a job application I had put in a month prior. Two days later, I attended an in-person interview and finished the nerve-wracking experience by scheduling an edit test later that week. Once I finished the edit test, I sent in a quick thank you and let out a sigh of relief. Damn, finding a job was going to be so easy. This was only week one, and I had totally nailed that assignment.

I never heard from that editor again.

That fall, it was a cycle: Receive a promising email or phone call, finish an interview, tackle an edit test, send a quick thank you, and never hear about the position again. Occasionally, an editor would send a quick note informing me that they went with another candidate. But that scenario was an exception rather than the rule. Weeks of unemployment turned into months and defeat began to percolate my very being.

And that’s when the questions started to come. Did you find a job yet? What are you doing in New York? Have you made any friends? When was your last interview? Do you even like it there? Do you feel any different?

When you’re already overwhelmed, these questions were the worst confirmation that I was doing everything wrong. I couldn’t help but wonder what about this move was so life-changing. The fact that I paid twice the amount of rent than I had in Evanston? Or maybe that I could count the number of friends I had in Manhattan on one hand?

And as I spent yet another fall afternoon pushing strollers along 18th St to Union Square Park, I settled on the fact that it was standing in a city filled with almost 9 million people and still feeling utterly alone. It was discovering how insignificant, unimportant and inept I felt—and how easy it was to feel that way.

And maybe it’s uncomfortable to say so, but I think that truly is what made New York life-changing for me. For the first time, I couldn’t figure out how to turn my daydreams into a reality. And that revealed some surprising elements of my personality. I discovered how the weight of disappointment could take over my life. How entranced I was by an incredibly shortsighted definition of success. How quickly I would question myself, my abilities and determination in the face of rejection.

In discovering these quirks, I was forced to reason and rationalize a couple of critical things. Most importantly, just because you’re not the best at something, does not mean you’re the worst. Next, if someone else gets the job it’s not necessarily because they’re way more talented than you, they’re just a better fit for the position. And finally, the path to success that another person follows may not align with yours and that is okay. In fact, it’s incredible because these unique directions throughout life are what shape our perspective, personalities and perception of the world around us.

Of course, these discoveries were well-timed with a seven month internship at Cosmopolitan followed by offers for two part-time positions where I finally dropped the intern label. Because I had just become so unaccustomed to scoring the position, I was completely shell-shocked when these offers coincided just after my one-year New York-aversary. And in turn, it only cemented that life has this insane way of working itself out over and over again.

And in my 438 days in this city, I’ve started to slowly unravel the fiber of my being. To discover my strengths and weaknesses beyond my struggle to break into journalism. And some things are just a little different than they were a year ago— I can no longer count the number of people I know in New York on just one hand. And some things are the same— Washington Square Park is still my favorite place in all of Manhattan.

When I look back on this past year, it’s almost unfathomable to imagine I moved to this perfectly chaotic city just one year ago. And when I think of the first year, there’s moments I’ll never forget.

Driving into Bushwick for the first time. Watching my first sunset on a Brooklyn rooftop. Taking photos with Blair on the Brooklyn Bridge at sunset marveling in the Manhattan skyline. Standing in line at Dō with Becca on a snow day in March in a desperate attempt to avoid the chaotic grand-opening lines. Taking cab rides with my mom in the West Village that my dad claimed cost way too much. Putting together all of my IKEA furniture alone on a Tuesday afternoon. Dancing at Niagara at 3 AM. Discovering the city is dead Memorial Day Weekend in the empty bars of the East Village. Taking purple shots at Blondies that taste faintly of grape kool-aid. Spending an entire afternoon searching the Upper West Side and Harlem to find the perfect home for Christina. Conducting a photoshoot with Cory in Central Park before the cherry blossoms disappeared. Watching the Bahamas play in a minuscule venue in Greenpoint. Doing the electric slide to ‘80s music with Sara. Taking advantage of cheap shots with Christina even though we’re far too old. Becoming mesmerized by fireworks in upstate New York on the 4th of July. Taking a vegan cooking class with Blair for my birthday. Sitting for Nan Goldin’s entire photography exhibit at the MOMA inspired to learn about my city. Setting eyes on Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” for the first time. Taking selfies with my dad in Washington Square Park while “Masters of None” filmed in the background. The bartender spritzing me with rose water at Anyway Cafe. Too many slices of late-night pizza before the Vegan Challenge 2k17. Braving Bar None with Christina and Curtis. Driving a U-Haul for the first time for my very first NYC move. Watching the sunset along Battery Park with Sara. Max’s Birthday Party in Williamsburg. Drinks at The Johnson with Sarah. Waiting for the L Train at 3AM on First Avenue. Eating vegan Ethiopian food with Alana. Creating my own signature scent with Blair for her birthday. Screaming and running from our local apartment mouse (RIP). Spending a Tuesday night at a SoFar concert on a Bushwick rooftop with Sarah, followed by a Thursday jamming to Sturgill Simpson at Radio City Hall. Planning our second house warming party and realizing that in just a matter of months, so much can change.

The list could truly go on and on. And so many people and wonderful experiences have helped to make this adventure into something I want to brag about. To discuss on the Internet both the struggles and high points of the past year. And yes, that is just a fancy way of saying the blog is coming back.

I guess more than anything this post is a way to say I’m so incredibly grateful that I decided to take a chance on NYC. It seems to be working out.