The Good and Bad of New York City (and how I feel about leaving it)

The time had come...Devin had jetted to Guatemala to spend two years preaching, praying and growing, and I was left all alone in a city that was so much ours that I could not bear it without him. Especially in the middle of that frigid, gray Manhattan winter.

Us at Lincoln Center being the cool hipsters we are

So, I left. Which was just as hard, if not harder, than watching Devin walk away for the last time. Guys, New York City is a commitment. It's like marriage. You can't just leave whenever you want and feel OK about it. That place, those people, that amazing job, were my life, my love, my struggle...and I left them. 

"Hey Emma, why don't you tell us how you really feel..."

Let's be real, it's just a city. There are lots of cities in the U. S. of A. Lots of beautiful places, lots of interesting people. New York City is incredible, yes. But it's also hard. And scary. And frustrating beyond all belief. 

Can you tell I have a love/hate relationship with the place I've called home for the last two years?

I have been back in Arizona for a few months now, and I jumped right back into a full-time job and quickly settled into a new routine minus my best friend and lover. And I've had a lot of time to think about how I feel about my once-in-a-lifetime-I'm-never-doing-that-again-everyone-probably-thinks-I'm-crazy experience.

I feel relieved.

And then I feel guilty for feeling relieved, because it's not like moving to NYC on my own as an 18-year-old with $500 dollars in my pocket was forced on me. It was my choice, and I'm so grateful I made it when I did - because I would NEVER do that now, now that I've learned how much being self sufficient really costs, in money and energy and stress levels. 

But yes, leaving NYC was a relief.

I often wonder if all the millions of people that have, over the course of that city's existence, come and stayed a while, and then moved on...I wonder if they felt what I felt as I cried tears of relief watching that shining city fade into the distance through my airplane window.

The thousands of faces your brain must see and process and store away for future recall every day, the noise of countless angry drivers and frantic pedestrians and delighted tourists, the constant calculating in your head of train stops and blocks to walk and will I have enough for rent if I buy lunch today?...the temptations on literally every street corner, telling you to buy this thing or try that thing or you must experience this before you die....it is mental overload every. Day. You must continually block out most of what you are hit with just to be able to focus on what you are supposed to be doing. It makes you dull during those times when you are not being bombarded, because suddenly there is nothing to comment on and nothing is coming to mind to say or suggest because you don't have anything there to remind you about it. 

You heard that New Yorkers are rude? No, they're just regular people who are so used to being perpetually bombarded by their environment that they can't function in a place that is slow, and sweet, and quiet - there's not enough to look at, to hear, to smell. It frustrates them and they don't understand why and THAT frustrates them more.

I grew up in a place where we were required to make our own fun. We did wild things, preposterous things, in the name of entertainment...and I wouldn't have had it any other way. It was unique to us, to our particular group, to our tastes and to our liking. There is an unbelievable amount of freedom here in suburbia. It's only limited by your imagination.

New York City is for people who feel mentally stymied. If you need to be stimulated by your outside environment in order to feel creative and connected and alive, then it is the place for you. 

You walk out your door every morning and see people and things you've never seen before and will never see again, you share a moment with a stranger on the crowded train during your morning commute and wonder who they are and where they're going...you hear steel drums and Chinese fiddle and a kid on a keyboard and a string quartet as you move through your usual train stations. There are men on every corner telling you your beautiful, that your body is amazing and Can I have your number? You try to decide what you want for lunch - Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, Italian, American, Greek, vegan, soul food, or maybe I'll just get a salad because I just walked past a seven-foot tall, 100-pound model in head-to-toe Gevinchy on 7th Ave. and now I don't feel like eating at all. 

And then you're out of work and all you want to do is go home and sleep because you got 5 hours of sleep and your shoes are hurting but you're already in the city and it's a 45-minute commute home and it's rush hour so you'll probably have to stand the whole way and oh look, there's that show I wanted to see and maybe I can get reservations for that restaurant I wanted to try and I really did need that thing I just saw on sale and...

It's EXHAUSTING. There is no spare minute to just STOP and think about you. What you want, what you love, where you want to end up someday. There's so many things to do and try that you can lose yourself so, so easily. You create mental walls just to be able to function day-to-day. You become a sort of mirror to whatever wild thing you are currently walking past or reading on a billboard, and when you are with your friends wandering the city you make a clever comment about that wild thing and feel so good...and then those times when there are no wild things nearby to grab onto and you have nothing to reflect on, you are left with you. And you think "hey, it's nice to see you again" and then you realize that the "You" you knew is not you anymore because she's been buried by all the other you's you've been reflecting. You lose yourself a little bit. You lose your sparkle.

I think that's why I felt relieved to leave. I love New York City, I do. It will always be a part of me. A big part of me. But I am so grateful to be back in a place where I can focus on my goals and work actively to achieve them...where I can just BE and breathe and live and think and plan without the distractions, the bombardment and the overwhelming energy of 8.5 million other people crammed into 305 square miles of concrete jungle, all working to stay afloat (mentally and otherwise) just as hard as you are. I feel more alive and connected here at home than I ever did in that beautiful, beautiful city.

I love you, New York. But I'm glad I left you.