I moved to New York City about eight years ago this month. I knew no one and had only been here one time before a few months earlier. I had applied to NYU on a whim for grad school as a reach, and got accepted. How could I not go? I needed to do something different with my life and moving to New York for a year to complete this intense graduate program would be just what I needed. So what that I was the girl that cried every night at overnight camp because I missed my parents so much? Even when it was twenty minutes away from my house and only a week long. No big deal. No one would have guessed that I would move to New York and not be super homesick. However, eight years later, I am still here. And still loving it. It hasn't always been smooth sailings and one of my worst days in the city happened to be my first day here. I can laugh about how ridiculous it was now, but back then, I couldn't keep the tears from coming. I had an afternoon flight to New York. By myself. Me, two enormous suitcases and a map. That's it. (I was shipping quite a few boxes of stuff that would meet me there the next day.) I was such a grown-up moving to the city all by myself. I didn't need my parents to move me in. I don't know why they didn't come with because that's very unlike us, but I went alone. My dad assured me we would get to the airport with plenty of time. Well, he was wrong (And I haven't let him live it down). When we got to the airport, I said my VERY tearful goodbye and went to check in for the flight. I was then told that there wasn't enough time to check my bags and get on the flight, so I'd have to get on another flight. I freaked out. I called my parents who then came back around the airport to get me again and console me, and we booked me on flight two hours later. I had to say goodbye to them again (more tears), compose myself, and get in the security line.
Once I landed in NYC, I waited for my luggage at luggage claim. All the suitcases started to come around. I picked up my first one and waited. More were coming. There were some loose clothes on the belt and a suitcase that was ripped. OMG, that was my suitcase. It has torn, and a bunch of my clothes were just laying there in front of everyone. It was gross. Of course no one helped me as I grabbed what I could, including the suitcase and tried to hide the waterworks that were coming down again. Was this happening to me for real? I threw the loose clothes in the suitcase and brought it to the office there and the airline guy taped my suitcase shut the best he could. Ugh. After this was settled, I found the driver who was taking me to pick up my keys for my graduate student housing. He took my luggage, and we were off to the city to see where I would live for the next year.
Once the driver got me to NYU office to pick up my keys, the people there checked me in, but then couldn't find the keys to give to me. They looked and looked and couldn't find them. (More tears on my end.) They assured me that when I came back tomorrow, they would have them. Um, what was I supposed to do until then? Why just get security to let me in (they were going to call them) and just not lock the door if I had to leave. This was NY, and my first day, and they expected me to just leave my apartment without locking it? Seriously? But what was my other choice?
I got to the apartment and security opened my front door for me. The apartment was huge and spacious which was a pleasant surprise with the little I knew about New York apartments. I took my luggage in, and went to call my parents. Hmmm...no cell service. WTF? I walked all around the apartment until I found a spot where I could get service. Where was this spot? Basically sitting on the window sill in my bedroom. This was pretty much the only spot I got a signal in this apartment. And my first phone call to my parents included like six dropped calls because if I moved, I lost them. I was hysterical. Hysterical. I was now on my own, in an apartment to which I had no keys to, had no cell phone reception, no TV yet, no internet yet, and didn't know a soul. I was off to a great start! Although I couldn't stop crying on and off these first few hours, I just kept telling myself that this was as bad as it was going to get for me out there. I wasn't going to let New York get the best of me on the first day. That's not my style.
Clearly, things improved for me. I went back the next day got my keys, stocked my fridge (appalled by the prices of groceries here too), and explored my neighborhood. I had a few days before school actually started so I wanted to see and do as much as I could before I actually started classes. I still didn't have a TV (I had to wait two days for it to arrive via Fed-Ex with the rest of my stuff) so I had to keep busy anyway. When the TV finally came, it was broken. Yes, totally broken. And yes, I did have one more mild meltdown with tears. (If you read this blog often, you know how much I LOVE TV.) If I had known that was going to happen, I would have gone out and bought a TV my very first day. But who could have guessed something else bad would happen? No one. Whatever. As soon as my tears dried after this final bit of bad luck in NYC, I went out and bought myself a TV. Now that I had a TV to entertain me a bit (I always need background noise), all my stuff and organized my room, I was ready to conquer this city that bruised my ego a bit the first few days. And you know what, I did it. I explored my neighborhood and the surrounding ones. (I must have walked a million miles those first few days.) Then I finally took on the subway by myself too. And I succeeded. I was a natural. I was going to dominate and succeed in this city, not the other way around.
Eight years later, I am still living and loving New York. Moving here was one of the hardest and best decisions of my life. It changed the course of my life tremendously and I would never take it back. It has made me emotionally stronger and more independent and I don't know if I would be the same girl that I am today if I still lived in Chicago. I think I needed the experience to be on my own away from my family. Of course I miss them everyday and still call them crying from time to time. Some things never change. However, my time in New York has only gotten better and better. Yes, there were some bumps in the road, but I grew and learned from them. New York: I've got your number so don't even try it.
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