Back in September of 2020, I shared my feelings about New York—a love letter of sorts to a city that has shaped so much of who I am. Much of what I wrote still holds true, but as we inch toward a full year of living through this pandemic (how has it been that long already?), I’d be lying if I said my thoughts haven’t been all over the place.
This isn’t a neatly packaged essay with a tidy conclusion. Instead, it’s a collection of thoughts—sometimes contradictory, sometimes messy—about what it means to live in New York right now, at a moment when so many people are leaving.
Watching People Leave
Since March of 2020, I’ve counted about 19 people I know who have packed up and left New York. Nineteen! That’s not just a number—that’s a community shifting.
Some left the city but stayed nearby—moving to Connecticut, New Jersey, or Long Island. Others went farther: Florida (so many to Florida), Nashville, Charleston, Austin, and other southern cities with warmer weather and bigger homes. For those who weren’t originally from New York, the decision makes sense. If Keith and I weren’t born and raised here, I imagine we’d be considering the same thing.
But our families are here. Most of our closest friends are here. That, more than anything else, is why we stay. Love for New York aside, it comes down to relationships, roots, and a sense of belonging.
Still, it’s bittersweet to watch. On one hand, you feel excited for people starting fresh chapters—new cities, new homes, new possibilities. On the other, you feel like pieces of your world are slowly slipping away. Sometimes it feels a little like high school again, when everyone announced their college choices and suddenly you realized the people who’d been your everyday constants wouldn’t be around anymore.
And just like then, some departures hit harder than others.
The Personal Goodbyes
Take my friend Keiko and her boyfriend, Bobby. They’re from Florida, and it was always the plan for them to return someday. But the pandemic sped everything up, as it has for so many people. Rationally, I understand it completely. Their families are there, and family ties run deep. Emotionally, though? It stings.
We had plans to meet up the week the city shut down—a date that never happened—and now, it likely never will. Even though we hadn’t seen each other in over a year, there was always the comfort of knowing she was just a subway ride or quick drive away. That’s gone now.
It’s moments like these that remind me how drastically life has shifted in such a short span of time. Less than a year, and everything feels unrecognizable. HOW?
The Daydreaming Spiral
By nature, I’ve always been a daydreamer, prone to wandering thoughts. But COVID has taken that tendency and turned it into a constant “what if” reel.
Should we be making a big, bold move too? Would our children be better off in a place with a sprawling backyard instead of our small (though admittedly charming) Brooklyn one? Should we trade harsh winters for year-round sunshine?
These aren’t questions I used to ask myself, but after seeing so many friends move to places with more space, more warmth, and often, more ease, I can’t help but wonder if we’re missing out. Am I truly longing for that change, or am I just caught up in the feeling that “everyone else is doing it”? I suspect it’s the latter, but there are days when the pull feels real.
Mourning the City
This past year has been a kind of collective mourning.
We’ve said goodbye to beloved restaurants where we made countless memories. We’ve watched friends and neighbors lose jobs. The city’s homelessness crisis has grown, a visible reminder of economic insecurity. Trash lines the streets more than before, the result of budget cuts that ripple into daily life.
It’s heavy, and it hurts. This isn’t the New York I knew a year ago.
And yet, I’m not sure I’d be happy anywhere else. The thought of leaving entirely—of trading this messy, complicated, electric city for somewhere new—doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe one day I’ll want the suburbs, but right now, New York is still home.
Searching for Balance
The dream, if I’m being honest, is balance. A home here, in the city we love, but also a place in the country—a space filled with trees, fresh air, and the quiet kind of serenity that resets you. We’ve tried to make that dream a reality, but it feels increasingly out of reach. The competition is fierce, with buyers swooping in with full cash offers. (Seriously, how are so many people able to do that?)
On the rare occasions we spend a couple of days in the country, I’m reminded how much our family needs that contrast. The city feeds us in one way, the countryside in another. Together, they’d be the balance I crave.
The Honest Truth
So where does that leave me? Somewhere in between. Some days I’m convinced we’re right where we need to be. Other days, I feel restless and unsure, wondering if we should follow the tide and chase a different kind of life.
The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t have the answers. Not yet.
But maybe that’s okay. Maybe the uncertainty is just part of this strange chapter we’re all navigating together.
What About You?
Over the past year, so many people have re-evaluated what home means—whether it’s staying put, moving away, or starting over completely. Some decisions are born of necessity, others from longing, others from opportunity.
Have you made a big move in the past year? Or are you, like me, still somewhere in the in-between, unsure of what comes next?
Because if there’s one thing this year has taught me, it’s that change—whether we choose it or it chooses us—always reshapes how we see the world.
