everyone who has ever moved a New York has a story, with many complications and differences. But they all have the same core of feelings for the city. Here’s what I have to say: People romanticize this city—and they should. It’s magic. It’s late-night walks past glowing windows, the energy of strangers chasing something bigger, the feeling that you’re in it. But no one tells you about the in-between moments. The nights you walk home alone, wondering if you made the right choice. The times you feel invisible in a crowd of millions. The job rejections, the almosts, the “maybe next times.” Living here isn’t just about arriving—it’s about becoming. You don’t get handed a dream just because you showed up. The city tests you, humbles you, reshapes you. It asks you, How bad do you want it? And you answer with every early morning, every risk, every time you choose to stay when it would be easier to leave. I dreamed of New York my whole life. Now I live here. And the truth is—it’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it. Because this city gives back exactly what you put into it. And if you keep going, if you let it change you in the right ways, one day you’ll look around and realize: I made it.