Moving to New York is not easy. This isn’t a Taylor Swift song, it’s New York City. You’re not Carrie Bradshaw. There’s no fairytale. You’re heart’s going to break. You’re going to trip. It’s going to be messy. You’re going to make a mistake… no, you’ll utterly fuck up. That’s okay. Brush it off. Rome wasn’t built in a day. This is New York. New York. Fucking. City. In school they teach you the earth rotates around the sun. They were wrong. The world rotates around New York; the center of the universe. Be tough here. Be weird. Stand out. Change. No one knows you. You’re surrounded by strangers. You’re a stranger to yourself. Find yourself. Find out why life brought you here. What missing part of your story will these streets help you write?
Be open, but not too open, here. Be brave, but not too brave. This city is a walking contradiction. You have to find a balance. It’s huge, yet small. It’s crowded, yet often lonely. It will knock you down and build you up. You’ll find parts of yourself that you never knew existed. And you’ll say goodbye to parts of yourself you never thought would leave. You have to believe that you’re in the right place for now. There is a reason you’re here. Find it.
Welcome to New York, kid.