Williamsburg, 2013 |
Every time I come back to New York after some time away, I find myself thinking something to the tune of 'How could I ever live anywhere else?'
It's odd, because I spend much of my travels browsing in real estate windows and imagining myself transplanted there, wherever there is, if only for novelty's sake. It's also odd because there are many objectively more beautiful places to live than Brooklyn, places that are less expensive than the city, that boast lots of things (like trees, yards, good schools) that people generally feel make for a better quality of life, especially with kids.
And yet the thing about living anywhere for 12 years (eek!) is that you become a part of the community. Today, when I walked Axel to his playgroup, I passed several buildings I'd lived in, and countless stores and restaurants where we've made memories. There are stories for every street corner.
Just the fact that we press a button in the elevator and are out on the stroller-friendly city streets in minutes makes me wonder how we'd cope elsewhere.
Maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome?
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