Why I Reluctantly Gave Up on My Dream of Living in New York City
But what a great place to visit!
Pinch me!
I’m living a long-time dream today — even if it’s only for a few hours.
I’m sitting in a Midtown Manhattan coffee shop with my laptop open, spinning thoughts into words and wondering why it’s taken me so long to find my way here.
I’m visiting my oldest daughter, who unlike me, followed her heart to the Big Apple when she turned twenty-five. When I was her age, I thought about making that move but never did.
In a way, I’m jealous of her life.
At this moment, I’m in awe of the energy surrounding me. The youth. The ambition. The diversity. I’m soaking it all in, letting my imagination run wild. I’m channeling my inner Carrie Bradshaw and pretending that I’m a successful writer who hit it big in the city that truly never sleeps.
I’m also feeling old. Like I don’t belong here anymore. And it’s not that there aren’t plenty of people of all ages moving past me as I write. The guy sitting next to me appears close to my age. I’m curious — Does he live here? Or he is just visiting like me?
Despite being awestruck by everything around me, there’s this overwhelming sense of knowing that the current version of myself could no…
