When I told people that I committed to NYU a little less than four years ago, their responses were always the same. At first, the obligatory “congratulations,” followed up by a “no way” or “that’s awesome,” but always concluding with an inevitable, “Wow, I never saw you as a city girl.”
I was excited to go to NYU, a little nervous to head to college but looking forward to expanding my circle beyond my small-ish Massachusetts town. I had only visited New York City once before — twice if you count my visit right before I hit submit on the Early Decision application, months after my mind was already made up. I wasn’t an incoming first-year who had dreamed of NYU my whole life with New York City memorabilia plastered on my bedroom walls. I thought it would be a good place to study because I liked to write, thought I could maybe do something with that interest and figured, “Hey, why not try something different?” But there was always this looming thought that maybe I didn’t make the right choice. Maybe I’m not cut out for a big-city life.
After being here for three years, I’ve learned that the city is as big as you make it. As a first-year, I didn’t expand my life much more north than Rubin Hall or much more south than Bobst Library. My mornings consisted of walking a block over to Bagel Bob’s before going two more blocks down to Downstein dining hall when it was time for lunch or dinner. While it may seem like I was missing out on all that New York City had to offer, I needed to create my own sense of a community — my own campus, if you will — before feeling comfortable enough to try a new restaurant every weekend or frequent other neighborhoods.
Finding your tried-and-true places is so important. Whether this be through a favorite bagel shop, cafe or an NYU club where you feel at home, you have to be responsible for creating your own sense of community. And while oftentimes this sense of community is built through connections with people — I thank studying abroad and WSN for all of my friends to date — the physical communities you find yourself in are just as key.
Today, my favorite part about living here is how much I can explore. I finally have a long list of restaurants to give to extended family and class friends from high school when they reach out and ask for recommendations when they visit the city for the weekend. Even though I now have a familiarity with the area I live in, I still discover something new every day. I leave for a week and a new pasta restaurant opens up below my apartment. I walk down the block and run into an old friend I met in Florence. I finally wait in that long line for a bagel place and realize why everyone stands in the sun for thirty minutes on Saturday mornings to buy one. The newness and opportunities here are refreshing.
I love going to school here, but escaping the city during school breaks is wonderful — there’s nothing better than sleeping in your own bed or playing with your dog you haven’t seen in months. But I’ll wake up in the morning and really wish I had a bacon egg and cheese across the street, or randomly crave boba — which I never have when I’m back at school. The convenience and comfort of New York City are so much easier to see when I step away from it.
I think of how many different types of people I was lucky enough to meet while living here. How much I learned about different cultures or ways of life or habits. I think about how much I’ve grown since moving here, and maybe it’s just age, but maybe it was everything else.
As I enter my senior year at NYU, I’m feeling grateful for everything this city has done for me. From something as small as trying sushi for the first time to giving me a new sense of independence that I didn’t have at 18. It’s been the landscape of so many great memories, a few hiccups and opportunities I never would have anticipated. So maybe I am a city girl, maybe I’m not. Whatever that means.
Contact Emily Genova at [email protected].
