I loved the comparison to a love affair. It’s so true. I always felt NYC was an aloof lover who couldn’t be bothered to call you back. I was never cool enough for him—nor NYC.
Yes, NYC was like a bad boyfriend. (Or, as I say in my essay in the book, it was like my gay boyfriend, keeping me busy and distracted from my loneliness, but not meeting…certain needs.)
I had a very similar experience shortly after moving to DC for work. I saw a homeless man, dead, at the top of the Metro escalators, outside, lying on the sidewalk. People were stepping over and around him without giving a second glance. I ran to some transit cops and breathlessly said, there's a dead man over there, to which they shrugged and eventually got around to calling an ambulance. No rush. No concern. No shock. I still can't get over it, years later. Nor do I want to become a person who steps over a body without stopping to help!
I loved this Cheryl. I’m a Minnesotan currently on the other side of the Gowanus canal from Park Slope. I once made eye contact and a nod to someone on the G. He responded by spitting on the men to my sides. A month later I read someone strangled him for less on that same subway line. My neighbors are as friendly as any I’ve known; carried our sofa in when it arrived before us; inviting us to Thanksgiving dinner when we were too postpartum to fly. Our bodega guys call us ‘boss’ and ‘friend.’ But it is harsh here. I’ve been ready to leave since we arrived.
Brings back so many memories: the impersonal Bodega, the casual everyday avoidance of other people's pain, the customers asking where I was really from, and why would I move here. I loved NYC and lived there 6 years, but...
I’m glad the bodega worker redeemed himself in the end. But it wasn’t enough to redeem the whole city. I too was a midwesterner starstruck by the Big Apple (Manhattan). I too lived above a bodega. I caught a mouse in my apartment and brought the wriggling bag down to the bodega to ask the worker what to do. He took the bag from me, and I was sure he knew what to do with it, and I was so relieved… until he marched out the shop door and chucked the bag onto Second Avenue, where it was promptly run over 80 times by traffic! Now that I’ve been here 30 years, I can admit that perhaps we’re callous at times, but we’re also usually friendly and very caring. It’s a negativity bias; the horrifying moments tend to be more memorable.
Thank you for sharing this heartful piece. I've always loved the IDEA of living NYC but the reality hasn't appealed enough. Now you’ve got me musing about places we feel at home.
I love NYC, and have never found a way to be able to move there....I am in a big city, but there is something about the energy that erases all the bad....
What a beautiful essay! Even though I'm a country bumpkin completely, I had back door access to NYC through recovery programs where I hung out with people from all walks of life. And I could go to the mind-blowing thrift shops and buy top of the line clothes, get a good haircut, and sort of blend right in. For the five winters I lived there with my NYC-born and raised husband, I was in love - the diversity, the food, the drama taking place everywhere all the time (no stabbings though). For me, it was a rebirth. But my god can Cheryl Strayed write! But we all knew that already, didn't we!?
Wow to this surprise, not-surprise ending. As a west coaster all the way and an upcoming first-time visitor to NYC, I'm keeping my ears to the ground for hints about how it might be in the Big Apple.
I lived in New York in the mid 90s. I romanticize the hell out of that time, married to my former husband , also a musician. Thirty years later I live in Chicago with my husband, empty nesters, and absolutely fell in love with this city a decade ago when we started visiting. I’m originally from Texas so I love the overly friendly nature of the people here in the Midwest. My husband still can’t stand New York and it’s rough and dirty ways lol but I will always hold it dear just can’t live there.
I am a Minnesotan who has lived starry eyed about NYC because I’m a writer. I’ve traveled to NYC, but just like love-bombing red flags, I knew there were certain flashy parts of NYC that could be mentally challenging and ultimately cause me to dislike the place I have been interested in from afar.
I’m very happy to be “Minnesota Nice,” and perhaps NYC could learn a thing or two from “county bumpkin.” Minnesota is also a highly educated state, in some parts, so it’s such a great representation of diversity and learning how to accept people groups that are different from you. Where I’m from, it’s very homogeneous- but, like the article says, some of the nicest people!
I loved the comparison to a love affair. It’s so true. I always felt NYC was an aloof lover who couldn’t be bothered to call you back. I was never cool enough for him—nor NYC.
Yes, NYC was like a bad boyfriend. (Or, as I say in my essay in the book, it was like my gay boyfriend, keeping me busy and distracted from my loneliness, but not meeting…certain needs.)
I had a very similar experience shortly after moving to DC for work. I saw a homeless man, dead, at the top of the Metro escalators, outside, lying on the sidewalk. People were stepping over and around him without giving a second glance. I ran to some transit cops and breathlessly said, there's a dead man over there, to which they shrugged and eventually got around to calling an ambulance. No rush. No concern. No shock. I still can't get over it, years later. Nor do I want to become a person who steps over a body without stopping to help!
Wow!! Traumatizing and so sad to see this numbness to society.
I loved this Cheryl. I’m a Minnesotan currently on the other side of the Gowanus canal from Park Slope. I once made eye contact and a nod to someone on the G. He responded by spitting on the men to my sides. A month later I read someone strangled him for less on that same subway line. My neighbors are as friendly as any I’ve known; carried our sofa in when it arrived before us; inviting us to Thanksgiving dinner when we were too postpartum to fly. Our bodega guys call us ‘boss’ and ‘friend.’ But it is harsh here. I’ve been ready to leave since we arrived.
<3
Brings back so many memories: the impersonal Bodega, the casual everyday avoidance of other people's pain, the customers asking where I was really from, and why would I move here. I loved NYC and lived there 6 years, but...
That ending made me cry 🥹🍊🧡
I’m glad the bodega worker redeemed himself in the end. But it wasn’t enough to redeem the whole city. I too was a midwesterner starstruck by the Big Apple (Manhattan). I too lived above a bodega. I caught a mouse in my apartment and brought the wriggling bag down to the bodega to ask the worker what to do. He took the bag from me, and I was sure he knew what to do with it, and I was so relieved… until he marched out the shop door and chucked the bag onto Second Avenue, where it was promptly run over 80 times by traffic! Now that I’ve been here 30 years, I can admit that perhaps we’re callous at times, but we’re also usually friendly and very caring. It’s a negativity bias; the horrifying moments tend to be more memorable.
Thank you for sharing this heartful piece. I've always loved the IDEA of living NYC but the reality hasn't appealed enough. Now you’ve got me musing about places we feel at home.
I love NYC, and have never found a way to be able to move there....I am in a big city, but there is something about the energy that erases all the bad....
What a beautiful essay! Even though I'm a country bumpkin completely, I had back door access to NYC through recovery programs where I hung out with people from all walks of life. And I could go to the mind-blowing thrift shops and buy top of the line clothes, get a good haircut, and sort of blend right in. For the five winters I lived there with my NYC-born and raised husband, I was in love - the diversity, the food, the drama taking place everywhere all the time (no stabbings though). For me, it was a rebirth. But my god can Cheryl Strayed write! But we all knew that already, didn't we!?
I loved this! and I too had no exit plan with NYC but it finds a way to slowly separate itself from you.
I loved this!
Wow to this surprise, not-surprise ending. As a west coaster all the way and an upcoming first-time visitor to NYC, I'm keeping my ears to the ground for hints about how it might be in the Big Apple.
So true! I'm a Minnesota girl myself, and have a Substack called You're Not That Nice. I think you'll find some familiar faces there. Annie
"For you, good luck" what an ending.
I lived in New York in the mid 90s. I romanticize the hell out of that time, married to my former husband , also a musician. Thirty years later I live in Chicago with my husband, empty nesters, and absolutely fell in love with this city a decade ago when we started visiting. I’m originally from Texas so I love the overly friendly nature of the people here in the Midwest. My husband still can’t stand New York and it’s rough and dirty ways lol but I will always hold it dear just can’t live there.
I am a Minnesotan who has lived starry eyed about NYC because I’m a writer. I’ve traveled to NYC, but just like love-bombing red flags, I knew there were certain flashy parts of NYC that could be mentally challenging and ultimately cause me to dislike the place I have been interested in from afar.
I’m very happy to be “Minnesota Nice,” and perhaps NYC could learn a thing or two from “county bumpkin.” Minnesota is also a highly educated state, in some parts, so it’s such a great representation of diversity and learning how to accept people groups that are different from you. Where I’m from, it’s very homogeneous- but, like the article says, some of the nicest people!