Finding My Place

That’s the thing about this city, you feel alone but you are always surrounded by people all at the same time. That probably sounds cliché, that’s what everyone says after they move here right? It’s so lonely but you are never alone.

But it’s true.

I moved to New York City at 18 as a rebellion against my parents. They told me I couldn’t move that far away from home at such a young age, and I disagreed. I had been cooped up in that house my entire life, I needed an adventure, so I moved here with my best friend Clara.

Clara was always full of energy, basically bouncing at all times because she simply could not contain herself. She decided when we were young that she wanted to become an actress on Broadway. She was the star in every single one of our school plays, and everyone knew her name. She’s everything you would expect. She’s tall, blonde and beautiful, and everyone at school noticed her. Life always came easy to her because she lived with a belief that everything would work out the way it should.

I, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Introverted, quiet, 5’2” with mousey brown hair that refused to grow past my shoulders. I could typically be found sitting in front of my locker in the hallway during free period reading a book. My favorite one right now is Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult. It’s an incredible narrative about one painful story told from three different perspectives. I’ve read it twice already, but I’m sure that my favorite book will change in the matter of a month. It typically does. Before that my favorite was A Thousand Splendid Suns, and before that 1984. (I’m a sucker for classics).

But I digress. I’m an avid reader and I figured I could get a job with a big publisher like Simon & Schuster or Harper Collins and start learning about the process that created so many incredible stories.

I was wrong.

I was hung up on too many times to count when calling to check in on my job applications. I felt like everyone wanted someone who had a minimum of 5 years of experience for an “entry level” position. It was so discouraging. So I took a job as a data entry clerk at a local hospital instead to get by, and I do waitressing shifts at a small diner on the weekends to cover our insane rent.

We got lucky and found an apartment for rent in Brooklyn for the low price of $1,900 a month. It’s about 100 square feet and has laundry in the basement – so apparently we hit the jackpot. Clara works full time as a barista at a local Starbucks during the week, and each night she hangs out with a local community theater group. She comes home late every night saying how much she loved it and she was learning more and more every day and knew that she was going to be on Broadway any day now. “I can out-act all of those clowns” she says before traipsing into the bathroom to use up all of our hot water and go to bed.

Clara was thriving. She loved it here.

I, on the other hand, hated it.

Today is Wednesday, far enough from the beginning of the week that I’m not ridiculously miserable. I walk into work and slump into my cubicle, drop my bag on the floor and sigh heavily as I turn on my computer and open up my database. Another exciting day of adding patient demographics. Woo hoo.

“Hey Amy, Happy Hump Day!”

I jump and look up at the large red-faced woman whose head has popped over the top of my cubicle.

“Good morning Patricia. Happy Hump Day.” I respond with minimal enthusiasm.

“I told you to call me Paaaat” she sings.

“And I told you NOT to call me Amy.” I retort in a snippy voice.

“Fine fine, Ameeeelia.” I hate her voice. “How’s your week going so far??”

“Just fine” I respond, “Living the dream!”

“Good to hear, good to hear.” She repeated everything. As if I couldn’t hear her the first time.

“So a bunch of us are going to Grimaldi’s for lunch this afternoon, do you want to join?”

“No thanks” I say quickly.

“Oh come on, you never go anywhere with us!” Pat whined. “It’ll be fun, some time to escape!”

“Thanks, but I brought a salad that just can’t wait another day and I promised my mom I would call her at noon.”

“Oh alright” Pat began to sink back behind their shared cubicle wall “but I expect you to join us next week!”

I said nothing and popped in my headphones to listen to my most recent audiobook and start typing away. The same tedious day ahead of me.

I didn’t want to go out with these people and get to know them. This wasn’t my world. If I went out to lunch with them and started to get sucked in, I might never leave this place. No, I couldn’t allow myself to become one of them.

The day dragged on, I told Pat my mom was doing well when she came back from lunch and popped her head over the cubicle wall again, then when the clock finally hit 5pm, I grabbed my bag and hurried out the door before anyone could try and force me to into happy hour.

I walked down the street towards the subway entrance, getting jostled every which way by the crowd of people also rushing away from the jail of their 9-5 jobs.

Sitting on the subway I begin to observe the people around me. Everyone looks so serious, and so determined to avoid eye contact with anyone else on the subway car. It’s so much different from the town I grew up in in Minnesota.

Clara and I grew up in Nisswa, Minnesota. A population of about 2,000 people. Everyone knew each other. It was impossible to date in that town because everyone around you had seen every moment of all of your awkward stages. We had all known each other since we were 4 years old, and when our class of 35 people graduated, I couldn’t run away fast enough.

New York City was a culture shock to say the least. Clara, with her incredible confidence, ran through Grand Central Station when we arrived with the energy and shine of a thousand suns. I mean, she was literally glowing. She went through Times Square, through Central Park, and she made sure we tried everything. Roasted nuts, a hot dog from a hot dog stand, she even found a waffle stand outside Central Park.

I was just clinging to her arm the entire time, following her around in her glory. I couldn’t keep track of all of the streets and the buildings. It was all so confusing and overwhelming. I cried in our tiny bathroom that night after Clara had fallen asleep. I was terrified. Had I made the wrong decision? Was this going to be too much for me? I never confided in Clara that I had such a hard time adjusting to this new adventurous world. She embraced it so fully, it was so easy for her.

So I plugged along, and I didn’t share my struggles. I studied maps of the city every night until I had memorized every route I could need; to the subway, to the grocery store, to my job, and to the coffee shop.

The subway screeched to a halt. Finally, it was my stop. I got off and walked the 4 blocks to my apartment. I slid the key into the lock and opened it, I was surprised to see a head of blonde hair at the sofa.

“Clara?”

“Oh, Amelia, hi!” Clara looked up at me, she was hurriedly wiping at her face, which was red and splotchy.

“Oh my gosh, Clara what happened?”

“Nothing!” Clara chuckled “Just starting my period, you know, hormones” She quickly tried to brush my question off.

“Clara, something is obviously going on.”

Clara’s fake smile faded and the tears began to well up in her eyes again. “Okay” she sniffled. “I need to move back home.”

“What??”

“It’s time to face it Amelia” she could barely speak through the tears running down her face. “We’ve been here an entire year and I haven’t even gotten an alternate part for a side character in my community theater group. Everyone has more talent than me and I’m a lost cause. I was an idiot thinking I could come out here and make it. It’s just too hard.”

I was in shock. Clara, the brave one, the one who had more confidence than anyone I had ever met in my life, was done? She was ending the adventure that she had been waiting our entire lives for?

“What are you talking about?” I was suddenly angry. “You can’t go back!”

“Amelia” Clara sighed “It’s time to give it up, I have to go back, find a real career.”

“THIS IS A REAL CAREER CLARA, THIS IS YOUR LIFE.”

Clara looked up at me with wide eyes. I didn’t raise my voice often.

“Clara, I’ve never seen anyone more excited about life than you. I’ve never seen anyone more thrilled about the path that they’ve chosen. This is YOU. This is your calling and we both know it. You can’t just give up on it.”

Clara wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked up at me “But what if I’m just not cut out for this? There’s hundreds of girls in this city that look exactly like me that are trying to do the exact same thing. This isn’t Nisswa, Amelia. Nobody sees me here.”

“So make them see you.” I was surprised at the conviction in my voice. “Clara, who cares if all these other girls look like you? YOU are the only you. You knew this was going to be hard when we moved here. You’ve never been someone who just gives up, and I know that you know you aren’t that kind of person.”

“I don’t know Amelia. I think it’s time to face reality. Not everyone can make it in this field.”

“I know that” I was staring at her with disbelief “but you can!”

Clara looked up at me. Her eyes were raw and red from all the crying, and she looked worn down.

“Look” I sat down beside her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders “If you give up, then why did we come here? What has this last year been for? You can’t let it be for nothing.”

Clara remained silent. My voice got louder again “CLARA, I won’t let you go. I won’t let you give up. Unacceptable, unacceptable behavior!”

Clara let out a small laugh, my mother used to say that to me all the time. Whenever I would stay out too late or steal extra lunch money from the jar in the kitchen. “Unacceptable Amelia, unacceptable behavior!”

“So? What are you going to do?”

She forced a teary smile “Stay, I guess.”

“That’s right! You’re going to stay.”

“But what about you? You hate your job, and I know you haven’t enjoyed being here.”

I was taken aback. “You’ve noticed?”

“Amelia, how could I not? You barely ever laugh anymore, you just stress about money every morning when you leave this apartment to go to work you look like you are going to do the worst thing anyone has ever asked you to do. I haven’t said anything because it seemed like you didn’t want to talk about it, but I hate thinking that you came out here for me and you feel like there’s nothing here for you.”

I took a moment to digest this. Everything she said was completely true and had been since we got to this city. How was I going to demand that Clara get her life together when I couldn’t do the same?

“You’re right.” I said “I do hate my job. I hate the rut that I’ve put myself in and I need to get out.” I felt a sudden surge of determination and energy. I don’t know if it came from the dose of reality that Clara had just gave me, or if it was from my sudden anger of seeing her on the precipice of throwing away her dream.

“Let’s make a deal, starting right now, we are going to change things. We are going pull it together and create the lives we came here for!”

“Deal!” Clara stuck out her hand and we shook on it.

**6 months later**

We stuck to our word. I joined a local young professionals group, and finally made a connection inside the publishing world. I was able to quit my exhausting data entry job and say goodbye to Patricia for the last time after accepting an assistant job at Viking Books. I also applied to Brooklyn College to study creative writing in the fall.

Clara was doing better too, she had just found out she had gotten the part of one of the sisters in her community theater group’s rendition of Fiddler on the Roof. She was elated to say the least. She was also talking about applying to NYU next year, after she’s gotten some more life experience. There is a young actress is her group that she’s been mentoring these days and she said the other day she thinks she would love to be a drama teacher one day. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy for her.

We’ve both started to find our place. That’s the thing about this city, you have to force your way in and stomp your feet into the cement to make space for yourself. And once you do, it’s truly incredible. I’m starting to see why everyone comes here.