For nearly 20 years of my life, I lived in Fort Lauderdale.
The beaches, palm trees, and Pub Subs (sub sandwiches from Publix, for those unfamiliar) that were part of other people’s vacations were staples of my everyday life.
Maybe that’s why I started yearning for somewhere that wasn’t as calm and steady as I was used to — somewhere like New York City.
I visited NYC for the first time in 2016, and four visits later, I made it my goal to live there one day.
Each trip welcomed me with new experiences and places to explore. Getting to walk out of my hotel with no set itinerary and discover local coffee shops or pocket parks was a feeling I genuinely believed couldn’t be replicated elsewhere.
Unlike my days in Florida, which sometimes felt repetitive, New York always felt fresh.
So, in July, I made the leap and moved to the Big Apple. Like other transplants in their early 20s, I wanted to feel like I was living in a place that mattered, and the city’s energy was intoxicating.
But I quickly learned that living in the city is much different than being a tourist
Day by day, since moving to New York City, I’ve become more aware of the realities that come with actually living in the place I dreamed of.
As a tourist, I curated my experiences, planned my trips around perfect weather, and was able to appreciate a slowed-down version of the city.
But living in the city comes with a pace that’s impossible to ignore.
Public transportation is crowded, fast-paced, and something I’ve learned to take into account when planning my days. I’ve had to learn to make decisions faster, leave earlier than necessary, and accept that even the smallest disruptions can throw off my entire day.
Plus, the so-called “New York tax” that forces me to spend at least $30 the moment I walk out the door has been a humbling dose of reality.
Moments like schlepping groceries in bad weather have made me miss how South Florida provides more space to slow down, too.
I used to see New York City as a fantasy, but as a resident, I’m realizing that maybe that was the version I created for the “me” who was just passing through.
I’ve learned that home is the place you build
Don’t get me wrong, I still see New York City’s appeal — just not in the ways I used to. In the same way tourists flock to the beaches I grew up on, I now see NYC as a destination people project their biggest hopes onto.
After months of living here, I’ve come to realize that the mundane aspects of everyday life are what make the city feel like home, from catching an express train just before it leaves the station to waving to my building’s super.
And now, I’m able to take these lessons home to Fort Lauderdale when I visit, which I’ve come to see in a whole new light.
On my first trip home, the beaches I used to visit every other month, and the constant hot weather I’d tried to avoid, carried a sense of charm I had really never appreciated growing up.
Experiencing it from the perspective of someone who left made me feel grateful for all the little details I used to overlook.
After that visit, I finally understood: A place can lose its appeal once it becomes familiar, but that doesn’t mean it’s no longer special. A dream city may never truly live up to the images we create of it, and that’s OK.
I’m learning to love New York’s imperfections and am enjoying rediscovering the beauty of South Florida as well.
But moreover, I’m learning to accept that home doesn’t have to be a place that constantly amazes me. It’s where I choose to keep building, flaws and all — and for now, that place is New York City.
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