Rediscovering My Abandoned Dream, New York City, Years Later

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It’s hard not to feel a twinge of envy as I stare at the eclectic collection of framed photos in my friend’s charming Brooklyn apartment. A sepia-toned vintage truck, a dapper fox in a suit, and a striking black-and-white close-up of wheat all seem to whisper, “Look closely. This is the life you didn’t choose.”

During a recent work trip, I strolled through the picturesque streets of her neighborhood with her and her friends. They animatedly shared stories about their favorite local spots, the hidden gems of restaurants, and the unique cocktails that had become staples in their lives. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at their shared history and effortless camaraderie.

Fifteen years ago, I yearned to move to New York without even setting foot in it first. Back in my early 20s, I was drawn to the city like a moth to a flame. At the end of my college career in 2000, I excitedly told my then-boyfriend about my internship application at CBS in New York. He applied too, and of course, he got it while I did not. Talk about a gut punch. But I went to the city anyway that summer, feeling both exhilarated and terrified as I navigated its unforgiving streets.

New York was everything I dreamed of and so much more. Each visit, I’d wander for blocks, envisioning which neighborhood I’d call home. I’d peer into apartment windows, scan job listings, and soak in conversations on the subway. Yet, I never truly considered making the leap. At 23, I was too paralyzed by fear to take a chance.

Loving New York felt like crushing on someone out of my league. The yearning was almost painful. Eventually, I convinced myself that the city had too many downsides—too expensive, too crowded, too impersonal, too dangerous—just to protect myself from the sting of potential rejection. I felt I had to be sensible; moving to New York seemed like a foolish dream.

Just like that unattainable crush, I pushed New York out of my mind. Over the past decade, I married, switched careers, had two kids, bought two homes, and now find myself starting anew after a tough divorce. Meanwhile, my high school friend, Emma, has thrived in New York since the moment I decided to abandon my dream. She built a successful career, cultivated a vibrant social circle, and has a passport brimming with stamps. Her stories of life in the city made me realize just how close she had become to my old crush.

Over two days, I felt as if I was living in a modern-day version of It’s a Wonderful Life. I confronted an alternate reality, one I could have embraced had I not been so frightened by my own insecurities. Perhaps if I had been bolder, I’d be living in a whimsically decorated Brooklyn apartment, spending weekends antiquing in Connecticut, and flying off to China for work. Instead, I’m navigating a messy divorce and single motherhood.

As we strolled through Brooklyn after a delightful dinner, I shared my admiration for her life. Emma linked her arm through mine, tipsy from cocktails. She confessed her happiness but also acknowledged a void in her life. Her friends echoed her sentiment, highlighting how challenging it can be to meet people in a city as vast as New York, where finding a compatible partner feels like searching for a needle in a haystack. I hadn’t realized I’d spent the evening with three intelligent, attractive women in their late 30s, all still single. It turns out, New York can be everyone’s lover, making the search for another seem less appealing.

The next day, as I wandered the city on my own during a conference break, I reflected on our lives—hers, mine, and the one I left behind. I followed the “go” signals at intersections, walking for an hour while contemplating life’s choices and paths. I didn’t find closure or a complete absence of regret at the end of my stroll, but I did realize that the roads we choose are often dictated by our courage at the time. Maybe it’s about embracing the journey that feels right.

If you can find joy along the way, you’re on the right track. And if you can look back and say you did your best, while also looking forward with hope, that’s what truly counts, no matter your zip code or relationship status. It’s not about the walls that surround you, but the love and connections you cultivate within them.

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Summary

This piece reflects on the author’s journey through life choices and the bittersweet realization of paths not taken, particularly regarding the allure of New York City. It explores themes of jealousy, resilience, and the importance of finding joy in the journey, regardless of where it leads.