I recently started an internship in New York City. ‘The City’ to locals. The strangest part about it though, is how incredibly different is to anything I’ve ever know. Let’s consider this my own personal diary. I’ll walk you through what it’s been like from the day I left Ohio.
Sunday, January 2.
I said a very rushed ‘goodbye’ to my parents and my dog, because if I prolonged it at all, I’d probably burst into tears. At this point, my overwhelming emotion was, “numb.” The past week had been a whirlwind of final-hugs and a few tears. Next thing I know, I’m packing five months worth of clothes into two suitcases and being whisked away by one of my closest friends to the airport. Thankfully, the friend in question, Seth, was kind enough to take me to Manhattan. Navigating the city during those first few days would’ve been near-impossible without him.
To give you any idea of how last-minute all of this was, I hadn’t packed until the day before I left, and we didn’t book a hotel until just before our flight. The hotel was needed because we would arrive one-day before I was set to move into my apartment.
We got to New York and had to carry easily, 50-pounds each worth of luggage up several different train-stops, bus-stops and elevators just to make it to our hotel. Naturally, we were starving after traveling all day, so we ventured out to find food. The room didn’t have silver-wear and we made the mistake of getting possibly the messiest pizza from an underground stop a few blocks over. Anybody who follows my Instagram account saw the aftermath of the pizza: an empty box on the floor, a singular fork from the lobby, and sauce everywhere. I think it’s safe to say we both slept like babies that night.
Monday, January 3-7:
This is where the culture shock truly started to hit. Up until this point it had been travel and sleep.
Upon move-in, I was supposed to have roommates. Two to be exact, even though it is a 4-bedroom apartment. Let’s keep in mind that I have never lived alone. I grew up an only child and always had the luxury of my own room and own spaces, but even in college and at home, there were always other people to socialize with; to laugh with and to share, simply put, life with. Seth was there which probably was my only source of sanity at that point. This whole timespan was a blur for me. We unpacked, shopped and tried new foods throughout the week, all the while, my feelings of loneliness creeping in.
I knew Seth would be leaving soon, which was a huge stress for me. Is it healthy? Absolutely not. He’s my emotional support human, however. Doing life without him is still, a week later, one of the strangest things. My roommates still hadn’t shown up, and all of my closest friends are states away. I was beginning to realize that here, so many people have a goal and are constantly working towards that. That presents itself with ample opportunities for depression because, everyone is SO focused, that nobody stops to make friends with strangers. That is also because the city is so grand, that it’s nearly impossible to do so. I’m used to my small-town Ohio life, where you strike up a conversation with anyone and instantly have a new best friend. Here, you’re always fast-walking down the street, barely making eye contact with those you pass, and conversations don’t last much more than 30 seconds. That’s not something you can change, that’s the culture here. Nobody had prepared me for that, how could they? Everyone knows me as an incredibly social person, but only as midwestern-social. None of my closest humans had ever experienced the city for prolonged periods of time.
January 7-9
Quite frankly, I don’t remember much of this weekend. The brain is so funny when it deliberately gives you memory loss so you don’t remember going through a traumatic experience. Seth left and immediately I called my mom in tears. I’ve cried before, but nothing like this. It felt like a tsunami. It fully hit me that I would be living here for the next five months, with my closest friends hours away, in a job I felt unqualified for, in a city that I wasn’t acclimated to at ALL.
I met up with new friends for dinner during this weekend, practiced taking the subway and tried to journal to the best of my ability, but it took everything in me not to throw in the towel. On a phone call with my dad, snot running down my face, he told me that what I was experiencing was a culture shock. I hate to admit when my parents are right, but they usually are. It was a culture shock. It still is.
As I said, my brain has chosen to forget that weekend. What I do remember, though, is that I went to Tribeca with a new friend and spent entirely too much money buying clothes for work. This was the first time I started to feel better. Not great, but the act of buying clothes and carrying bags around the skyscrapers began to remind me that I came here to be the hot young social media intern.
January 10
This was my first day of work. I am working remotely (now, through the end of the month due to COVID). I remember this being the biggest hurdle to jump. The second I finished up my training and began working on my own (scheduling social media posts, meetings with higher-ups, access to famous Instagram accounts), I truly began to feel the energy of the city. This is why people come here. When you walk anywhere below 59th, for me at least, you can feel the city buzzing around you. This is where I have found myself to come alive. I’m starting to form friendships here that I anticipate will last. Giving myself things to look forward to is helping immensely as well: I’m going to the MoMA this coming weekend and am trying new coffee shops daily. I’ve been able to be on-location for work as well, which has helped too: getting to know my coworkers more and finding people in the same boat as me.
My hope is that with each day and week, it’ll feel more like a “home.” I know this is very temporary and by the end of it, I’ll be able to boast that I once lived in Manhattan. The culture shock is still the biggest hurdle to jump, though. Being social here is wildly different than being social in a town of 30,000 people. It’s growing on me though.