It had been almost a year since I left New York, and it still felt surreal to me to not call it my home away from home.

The move to New York is familiar. Like thousands before me, and thousands that’ll come after, I moved to New York because it’s where you go to prove yourself. No matter if you were going as a student, an artist, or an investment banker, you wanted a challenge. You wanted your days to be filled with new experiences, not routine. You wanted to hustle. And hustle hard. New York is where you try to create the life you read about. You can be mean and complain and talk about leaving and not coming back. It’s a city that is a rich accumulation of the world’s dreams. It’s a city built on expectations and fantasies.

I moved there to get away. The Bay Area didn’t lack diversity or culture, yet it was safe. I had a safe upbringing, and that was the only version of myself I knew. I didn’t have to make many hard decisions, and I thought life ran in a straight line. Some call it naive.

My straight line led me to New York City. In my head, I romanticized the bustling streets and the bright lights. As an invincible seventeen-year-old with big dreams, I knew New York was where my fantasies would be realized.

New York turned out to be an asshole. It kicked me down and kept kicking until I decided to get up and fight. It didn’t warm up to me the first year, and it remained as cold as it ever was during my last. I wanted to get along, but it was too keen to see me fail. The streets bustled, sure, but with everything out to obstruct my path. The lights were bright, but look too long at them and I’d feel my head getting dizzy and my eyes slowly going blind.

New York doesn’t warm up to anyone. I had to warm up to New York. I learned to make peace with the icy puddles that posed as sidewalks. I learned to make a couple enemies by snatching myself a taxi on rainy days. There’s always a better show happening across town on a Saturday night, but that’s just New York’s way of making me jealous. I learned to choose to be satisfied.

When it came to opportunities, New York gave me its all. I said yes a lot. I explored the neighborhoods and side streets, and got to know them by their personalities. I jumped at any word of auditions and events and obviously that pop-up restaurant in Midtown. That was the only way I can win against New York.

New York gave me all the room to grow and all the freedom to choose. When there are infinite things of different shapes and unknown weights, it’s hard to determine what makes them balance. But by trial and error, I collected those “things”. I kept the ones I liked and discarded the ones that didn’t work. Over the course of four years, New York had thrown a lot of things at me, and I made myself a home out of them.

When I visited New York again, I was reminded of how I used to complain about the subway or mutter about the weather to anyone who would listen. But no matter how long I’ve been away, returning to this place always feels familiar. Did I prove myself? I don’t know. But it’s where I built myself, and I take that everywhere I go.