Every now and then, we find ourselves talking about New York again.
Not because we're obsessed with the past or because we think life would suddenly become perfect if we moved there tomorrow. We talk about it because it was one of the few places that genuinely felt right.
The truth is that I'd go back in a heartbeat.
And yes, I know I probably sound like a skipping record at this point.
I've been saying it for years.
Friends have heard it. Family has heard it. Anyone who's spent enough time around me has probably heard some version of it.
At some point people probably start thinking, "There he goes again."
They're not wrong.
But I'll keep saying it until my last breath.
Some places get under your skin and become part of how you understand yourself. New York is that place for me.
There was something about New York that connected with me immediately. It felt alive. It felt like a city built around people rather than scenery. Everywhere you looked there was culture, music, art, conversation, history, ambition, creativity, and a sense that life was actually happening around you.
The city wasn't polished. It wasn't quiet. It wasn't comfortable.
But it had a pulse.
You could spend an entire day walking with no destination and come home feeling inspired. Every neighbourhood had its own personality. Every block seemed to tell a different story. There was an energy that made you want to participate in the world rather than retreat from it.
I miss that.
What I've come to realize over the years is that what I value most in a place has very little to do with nature.
One of the first things people mention when talking about Vancouver is its beauty. The mountains. The ocean. The forests. The outdoor lifestyle.
The problem is that those things simply don't matter very much to me.
I don't look at a mountain and feel inspired. I don't feel drawn to hiking trails or outdoor recreation. Natural beauty has never been something that defines my idea of a good life. What inspires me is culture. Community. Music. Art. Interesting people. History. Neighbourhoods with character. Places that feel alive and full of stories.
And that's where Vancouver has always felt lacking.
I've often found Vancouver to be socially distant, difficult to connect with, and strangely detached despite being surrounded by millions of people. It feels like a place where people coexist more than they connect. A place where image often feels more important than culture. A place where conversations rarely go very deep and where community can feel frustratingly hard to find.
People often tell me how beautiful Vancouver is.
I don't see it.
Or perhaps more accurately, I see it and it doesn't move me.
A mountain view doesn't make up for feeling disconnected from the place you're living. An ocean view doesn't replace a sense of belonging. Scenery alone isn't enough.
What I want from a city is something entirely different.
I want character.
I want energy.
I want people.
I want stories.
I want the feeling that life is unfolding around me rather than standing still.
That's what New York gave me.
When I think about New York, what I miss isn't a particular building or street corner. I miss the feeling of being engaged with life. I miss feeling curious. I miss feeling inspired. I miss being surrounded by a city that seemed endlessly interesting.
And if I'm being completely honest, I don't just miss New York.
I miss the version of myself that existed there.
The version that felt more optimistic, more creative, more connected to the world around him.
The reality is that there are practical reasons we stay where we are. Careers, responsibilities, finances, commitments, and all the realities of adult life have a way of making major changes far more complicated than we'd like.
So we stay.
But that doesn't mean the feeling goes away.
Because deep down, what I want isn't just a different city.
I want a different life.
Not because I dislike life itself, but because I know there are versions of it that would fit me better than the one I've been living. I know there are places where I feel more alive, more connected, and more myself.
Whether that place ends up being New York again or somewhere else entirely remains to be seen.
But I know this much:
When I imagine the future, I don't imagine staying exactly where I am forever.
And whenever that thought enters my mind, New York is usually the first place that comes with it.
