Why Can't We Be Friends?
Confession: I think it's easier to befriend other stay-at-home-adult-children than independent 20-somethings.
For those of you who know me in real life, you are undoubtedly aware that my family has recently moved away from New York. I grew up in the city, and loved it for most of my life, but I was definitely ready to leave by the end of our season there.
The move did not happen without doubts. In deciding whether I would follow my parents away from the city (and thus extend my stay with them), I gave myself a headache thinking about how 'backwards' my geographical trajectory was compared to other people my own age.
Most Americans grow up in a suburban town, dream of one day moving to a big city to pursue their dreams, materialize this reality in their 20s, and possibly return to suburban living when they create a nuclear family of their own (after a decade or two).
Every time I tried to make a new friend in New York who was my own age, they were in the 'chasing their dreams in the big city' stage of their life. They had just tried their first bowl of Momofuku ramen, didn't mind living in Hell's Kitchen because it was 'centrally located', and were able to successfully ignore the stench of trash on the side of the street––all because they were still in their honeymoon stage of adoration for New York.
On the other hand, I tried my first Momofuku bowl in middle school, the crowds anywhere near midtown annoy me more than they excite me, and I'm tired of befriending rats on the sidewalk. I saw any chance weekend away from the city as a welcome respite from a life that I was beginning to find increasingly taxing and tiring.
Now, don't get me wrong: I still have something of the essence of New York infused in my bones, and I don't think it will ever leave me. It's a wonderful city that can feel magical to those who discover it, and I have no doubt that countless of my childhood friends will stay there for the rest of their lives.
But my time there had expired––for now, at least. I want to chase my dreams without hearing a million cars outside my window. I want to be in a city that sleeps! Oh, how I love to sleep...
So I followed my parents, and moved to South Florida. Already, the Sunshine State is proving to be a balm to my soul. The abundance of palm trees, lakes, seaside, and sun is putting me into a semi-permanent state of rest. I'm lulled into a slower pace of life; a quieter enjoyment of ordinary things.
And though it may seem counterintuitive, I am more motivated than ever to sit down and work on my creative projects. Perhaps, like the generations of romantic and naturalist poets before me, I am not meant to find inspiration in the heartbeat of cities, but rather in the pulse of Mother Earth herself.
To return to my original statement: no, there is nothing about being a stay-at-home-adult-child that makes you more inclined to write sappy poetry or enjoy a coffee on a peaceful patio. However, many of the 20-somethings I am meeting are pursuing their careers while living at home with their parents. It is more normal in South Florida, where communities are comprised of intergenerational families, and people are usually very close with their relatives.
Even if their career has nothing to do with made up stories and obnoxious vocabulary, I feel an immediate kinship with them. I don't feel the need to over-explain my circumstances or excuse my lack of independence. And though I wish I was confident enough to live unapologetically with everyone, this unspoken understanding is a welcome kindness at this time.
Hopefully, the understanding can lead to something resembling new friendships. And if not, I'll befriend the alligators.
In what's becoming something of a habit, I conclude with an excerpt from "The Lakes" by Taylor Swift, in honor of the beautiful (and only sometimes gator-infested) lakes/waterways of Florida:
Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die
I don't belong, and my beloved neither do you
Those Windemere peaks look like a perfect place to cry
I'm setting off
But not without my muse
To the inspiration that guides us all,
Anika
