Goodbye to All That?

On Letting Go of New York

Four weeks ago, I left New York. I said goodbye to the barista at the coffee shop next door, the bartender at the wine bar down the street, the trees that shaded my block, and the river whose presence accompanied me on my daily walks. I said goodbye to the bridges, the skyscrapers, the Met… and practically everyone I had come to know.

The days leading up to my departure were filled with a sense of disbelief. I awoke in the same place I’d called home for so long, yet major change loomed. I stood firmly on my jute rug, anticipating being knocked off my feet as it’s pulled out from under me… by me. Everything felt simultaneously the same yet exquisitely precious in its impermanence.

Leaving New York was more than a physical departure; it marked a farewell to the dream that had fueled my aspirations from childhood through adolescence and into early adulthood. New York used to be everything to me. New York had been my guiding star, the life goal that anchored my ambitions. With New York in mind, I knew I could get through just about anything — the screaming, the fighting, the loss of my dad’s medical license, the deaths. As life threw twists and turns, I had a confidence that if I kept on walking, I’d eventually get there… to New York City, where everything would be okay.

Pinpointing what drew me to New York with such deep obsession isn’t easy. I just know that at some point early on, perhaps around four or five years old, New York City became it. If I could call New York home, I thought, all my problems would go away, and I could create whatever life I wanted for myself. New York was too busy, too full of life, too full of ambition, it seemed, to care about the familial burdens that weighed on me in the Maryland suburbs. New York symbolized reinvention — a lifeline I yearned for at the time.

At 22, I made it to New York. The setting of my dreams — and all the movies — finally became my home. And I loved it. I inhaled the city — the art, the museums, the food, the drinks, the grit. Among its eight million inhabitants, I forged lasting friendships that felt like the plotlines of shows like "Girls," "Sex and the City," and "Broad City." I lived my own life, episode after episode, often in awe of the spectacular backdrop that was New York City.

Outside My First Apartment in New York (2014)

This is typically the part of the essay when I tell you that New York didn’t magically solve all my problems. But it did. Assuming a New York zip code allowed me to, in some way, become a woman unburdened by her past. The city's ceaseless buzz snapped me into the present moment, where I learned—or at least, I believe I learned—how to live without fearing the unknown. New York freed me. And I will forever be indebted to those three hundred square miles for that.

Over a decade, the five boroughs worked their magic, unraveling me from the knots of my past. During a visit to Australia, my mum’s homeland, in December 2022, I awakened to a new version of myself, a version that could maintain sanity, happiness, and self without New York City as the core of my identity. The beach, the ocean, and the general laid-back Australian culture elicited such a strong sense of serenity that I considered trading my Prozac prescription for the Southern Hemisphere sunshine. As I thought about returning to New York, a nagging “what if?” began to echo in my mind. And the moment that thought was sparked, I knew that my need for New York City had been fulfilled.

So, when the opportunity arose to take a job in Sydney, I leaped at it. And while I’ve looked back, it’s been with a sense of deep appreciation rather than regret. New York was, in many ways, the love of my first 30+ years of life. It was the unwavering goal that steered me through my youth, even as curveballs were thrown my way. And having served as my home for nearly a decade, New York gave me the strength to weather illness, injuries, breakups, a layoff, and all the other complexities of life.

New York City built me up to the point where I didn't need it as my North Star anymore. It helped me find my way and find myself. And now, I can move forward.

At Balmoral Beach in Sydney, Australia (2022)