“There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. […] Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion.”
E.B. White, Here is New York
via swiss miss.
Up until recently I thought of New York has this temporary home for me to seek adventure, boost my career, fufill my 20something need for change, and then move back home when I was ready and start a family. This city is so chaotic that I always assumed I’d leave before it made me “hard”. I didn’t fathom the idea of planting my seed and growing some roots here. Having a family here, or being elderly here sounded awful. But you know what? In the last year I’ve grown more and more in love with this place. Maybe it’s the sunshine, the increasing number of strollers in my neighborhood, or something’s in the water, but I’m sticking it out for as long as I can. This place is amazing, and has changed my life so much I can’t even comprehend it. I have been married, single, divorced, and now in a serious relationship in a matter of 3 years. I can’t imagine going back home now, or anytime soon.
Florent Morellet recently said in a ny magazine article: “New York is the city of changes. People forget this is what they love about it.”
I’m a girl of changes, so I guess we were meant to be.
This is not to say that I won’t change my mind, but I just needed to declare my love for all the people back home who assume New York is just another phase of mine.
photo by martha burzynski, one of my most talented flickr friends.
