Tuesday, February 12, 2013

City Lights


As I approached the exit for 125th Street, the city lights gleamed in welcome.

I was alone in my car, driving down the West Side Highway en route to Manhattan from our new house in White Plains. It was certainly not my first trip back since the move; I take the train to the city every weekday for work. It wasn't even my first weekend trip just for fun. But it was the first time I found myself in the driver's seat, and the first time I made the drive alone.

And it felt strange. Unnatural, even. Because when Manhattan was my home, I rarely left to go north. And when I did, I was never the one driving. So steering my brand new car towards NYC was one more sign of a fact that has been harder than I anticipated to accept.

I don't live here anymore.

For a minute, the white lines of the highway blurred as the reality of my new life washed over me.

Saturday night in the city had seemed like a great idea when I made the plans on Thursday night with my best friend. Manicures and dinner. Just like we did for the seven years we both lived on the Upper West Side, mere blocks from each other. Only now, neither of us lived there, and as I approached my exit, I wondered if going back that night was the right thing.

In the three months since my move, I had begun to like my new place quite a lot. The people were friendly, we had a great house on which we had begun to make our mark, and the town was the exact balance of urban and suburban that was a must for two people who had spent nearly a decade living in the busiest city in the world.

But I had come to realize in the past three months that it takes a long time - longer than I ever expected - for a house to become a home. And I learned that it is possible to be, at the same time, excited and hopeful for what lies ahead, and incredibly sad for what was left behind.

And it was the sadness that clung to me as I steered my car off the exit and back into my old neighborhood. I found a parking spot quickly, and, with half an hour to kill, I began to walk the streets I used to call my own.

The brightly lit windows along Broadway beckoned passers-by, offering warmth and welcome, but I continued to walk. Ice crunched under my feet and the bitter cold wind seared my cheeks as I wandered alone around the place that used to be mine.

On every corner I saw myself. As a fresh college graduate, wide-eyed and new to the big city. Walking with my best friends in heels that were far too impractical for the city streets. Carrying a bag filled with heavy law books, on my way to one cafe or another. Strolling hand-in-hand with the man I would marry. Celebrating our engagement. As a newly-wed.

This is the place that made me. These city streets tell my story.

But as I passed a store unfamiliar to me - a store that opened after I left - I realized that they don't tell my whole story. That there is a new chapter to be written, on the streets of a different city, not all that far away from where I stood.

And the clutch that had made itself at home under my heart since I moved away eased, just a little.

When I got in my car to leave at the end of the night, the car was facing south, towards my old street. And for a minute, I considered driving a few blocks out of my way to ride past my old apartment building. To stay on the Upper West Side just a few minutes longer.

But instead, I turned the car around, and headed north, towards home.

30 comments:

  1. I can sure relate to this one....no place fancy like the big city, but I have a new home town and sometimes I really ache for the place where I called home for so many years. But, this place has become the town where my children will call home, and it is finally starting to feel like home. Good luck!

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    1. I think it takes a long time for a new place to feel like home, especially when you were so entrenched in the old place.

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  2. Being back in old neighbourhoods is always so nostalgic for me, too. You captured this beautifully.

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    1. Thanks so much. It is definitely hard to go back, but I am hoping that it gets less hard every time.

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  3. Your writing has convinced me to (1) get a bucket list and (2) put living in Manhattan for one year on it. I love how you love it and how you write about it. You did a great job setting the mood here. What color is your manicure? PS: I am still reading every day but my job prevents commenting as much as I want.

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    1. I really believe that everyone should spend at least a little time living in Manhattan. It definitely changes you. I think, in a very real way, Manhattan has shaped me and made me into the person I am now, and I am grateful for that. My nails are Fishnet Stockings, my most favorite red. Hope you are loving your new job!

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  4. Fellow UWS-to-Westchester transplant here. I agree with the above poster that you captured the feelings of nostalgia beautifully here. I also want to assure you that it gets way easier. I'm sure the time varies for everyone, but for me it was almost exactly a year. A year before it didn't feel like a trip into the city was a trip back to "my neighborhood." I think it helped that all my friends have been migrating out of the city, too!

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  5. I've moved many times in my life, and every time I feel a sense of loss mixed with excitement. For my college town in particular, I would give alot to be able to go back and have one more lazy summer day there with my friends. And yet at the time, I felt like I couldn't get away fast enough

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  6. When I would come home during school breaks, I always felt the rush of excitement, to visit my old haunts, to mourn the ones no longer there. I completely understand that nostalgia.

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  7. This was so very well told and relatable. You did such a fantastic job showing how we truly do build relationships with places and environments. I especially loved this line: This is the place that made me. These city streets tell my story. I have always enjoyed reading your blog, but I truly think that you are becoming increasingly more skilled. Your posts just keep on getting better and better! I hope that is correlating with your life and that it is rich and full of beauty too. :)

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  8. I always dreamed of living in New York for at least a few years. It was not to be, and I don't think I would like to anymore. I always feel the urge to drive by places I used to have a connection with, too. I loved how you ended your piece.

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  9. totally relate. i remember when we went back to our "neighborhood" after we had gone suburbs. there were two new stores (one a yogurt and i was so pissed it opened after i left), and seeing our doorman was like seeing an old friend from college. it was nice to visit, but i wasn't part of them anymore.

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  10. Samantha, This story was perfectly told, and resonates w/ me deeply. My story of living in San Francisco, and then deciding to move to Oakland was very similar to yours. I didn't want to leave the city, but for us to buy a house, Oakland was our best affordable option. That was ten years ago this May. We've lived in Oakland ever since, and I wouldn't change it for the world. I still love San Francisco, and go there often, but Oakland is my home now. I'd love to hear your take on your new home in a year, three years, five years, ten. I'll bet you'll continue to grow into it, and love it more and more each day. :)

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  11. This is beautifully written, and I felt your emotions right along with you. You captured the feeling of moving on so well.

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  12. This makes me wish I'd given Broadway a shot before having kids... Just lovely!

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  13. Wait, did Erica bully you into not having your pink background anymore? Great post though - I'm only easily distracted by changes!!

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  14. I always love New York City when I visit, but I am not convinced I would want to live there. I am a city girl, but on a smaller scale. I'll leave Baltimore one of these days...

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    1. And I like the re-design! Happy One Year of Blogging!

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  15. What a great balance between your nostalgia and your hope for the future.

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  16. I could definitely live in New York. I love it. And one of the reasons I love spending time reading you is that your love for the city comes through and I enjoy it all over again. But I see you writing about your new home in a way that tells me you're connecting there. That makes me happy for you. This post was the perfect mix of looking back at what once was your life and looking forward to what lies ahead. Loved it! I was on those streets with you.

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  17. I love your writing ... a beautifully told story full of hope and nostalgia. Subtle and gorgeous!

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  18. Oh, I felt this -- big time. We lived in Chicago until my son was 3. I ache to stay there every time we visit. Home for now is here, in the suburbs, with my family, but I do see a condo by the lake in our post-kids future.

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  19. This is so relatable for me, as you know. I loved the way you described the emotional tug of war of what was vs what is. Nicely written!

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  20. This is how I felt when I left San Diego, though I was there for far less time and it certainly can't match New York for excitement and personality. Places can really shape who we become, huh?

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  21. Very well written. I've moved a few times and I can relate to the feelings you write about here. It's hard to leave places where you have memories.

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  22. I've only moved once as an adult. From the small town of my childhood to the small town of my adulthood. I don't know if I could bear to move from this town that has been there through the past two decades of my life.

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  23. I can so definitely relate to this! I've made a few big moves in my adult life, and I love visiting the old neighborhoods, but ultimately remember why I left them.

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  24. I completely relate to this. You did such a wonderful job of capturing that feeling. I used to live in New York too and even now when I go back, I think about the days when it used to be my city. But like you, I feel like my home is my home. I'm glad to come back and make new memories here. As always Samantha, wonderful writing!

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  25. Sounds like a trip down memory lane. Enjoyed it.
    WG

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  26. Things change so fast, don't they? When I visit my friend in the town I called home for eleven years, I hardly recognize certain areas. But there's always a few familiar spots, and a friend who will always be my friend.

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