Bookclubs, Biology, & Brooklyn

I wrote this after my first year living in NYC, my first year as an 'adult.' Originally published on Medium.

I was walking through Little Italy at the end of August, my melanocytes screaming at the blistering sunlight and 95ºF heat.

“Best Bolognese and margherita in NYC—come here, come try!”

The restaurant host was as unforgiving as the sun. But like a true New Yorker, I didn’t bat an eye. I quickly skirted past the red-checkered tablecloths, fake petunias, and the lingering smell of fresh tomato sauce. I didn’t need to look behind me to see that the family of French tourists stopped in front of the empty restaurant, with their mouths agape and stomachs growling.

“Ah bon, c’est parti!” (“Oh OK, let’s do this!”)

The end of August marked my first year of living in New York City, and it blows my mind how quickly these past 12 months flew by. Like the French tourists, I’d say I’ve had my fair share of “C’est parti!” moments in this city, some culminating into big fat failures, major wins, or worldly realizations.

This piece serves as a reflective souvenir of the last 365 days living in the city I now call home and transitioning into *cue the music* adulthood.

I wanted to share some highlights from this past year that make me grateful on how things turned out. Who knows — maybe it can help other anxious, freshly minted “adults” who are looking to move (or have recently moved) to New York City. (And please don’t let those harrowing Tik Tok videos about how lonely you’ll be, how everything is so expensive, how the subways are so dirty, make you feel any more anxious than you probably already are. That’s just the algorithm doing its job: scaring you so that you continue scrolling and scrolling and scrolling.)

1. I went to every housewarming party I was invited to—and went to ones where I quite literally knew no one. This has been, hands-down, the best way for me to meet new people and forge new friendships beyond my existing social circles, a major intention I set for myself since moving into the city. They also got me to explore new parts of the city I haven’t been to. An Earth-day themed housewarming brought me to Marble Hill in the Bronx, the northernmost neighborhood of NYC. I fell in love with Bushwick after going to one there, where I was a 4th-degree invitee (ended up meeting the most lovely crew of Brooklyn friends). I threw my own housewarming the eve of my 22nd in the 80-square-feet-combined-living-room-kitchen-dining-room of my Lower East Side shoebox apartment. You’ll also realize the world is very small after going to a bunch of these: I met new people who often shared mutuals with me, and bumped into friends from the past, some of which I’ve re-connected since.

2. I picked up “hobbies” that kept me intellectually engaged beyond quotidien living. (I’m putting quotations around “hobbies” to reduce the floating expectations people often have around the commitment to an activity that we’d consider a “hobby.” The bottom-line is: do what you like, whenever you like.) I’ll be honest — the allure of weekend brunches, city nightlife, and checking out new restaurants quickly dies after your initial 2-month honeymoon phase with the city. This pushed me to pick up new “hobbies.” At the stroke of 10 o’clock on Sunday mornings, I practiced French tongue-twisters with my fellow classmates in a French church in the Upper East Side. A good friend and I hosted our very first bookclub meet-up at Book Club, a café in the East Village, before our second one in Central Park. I searched up “biotech nonprofit nyc” on Google, and a few months later, I was paired with a grass-roots researcher at the world’s first community biology lab to find ways to gene edit bacteria capable of creating cement. Not only did I rekindle my love for French (learned since 6th grade), reading (for fun), and science (putting my biology major to good use), I killed two birds with one stone and have been able to meet new, interesting, and cool people.

3. I developed a daily, weekday routine—and tried my best to stick with it. For me, it takes 3 months to fully develop a habit (it’s different for everyone, according to HBR), and it’s truly such a hard thing to do. I forced my body and brain to wake up at 6:30AM on weekdays. Immediately drink a full glass of water. Fold my bed. Eat 3 eggs, cooked over-easy, with a toasted slice of WholeFoods’s Batard loaf. Out the door by 7:15AM to get the the gym at 7:40AM before work at 9AM. Ask me why I did this to myself, and I’m unsure if I could give you an answer. I used to never be a morning person (and could sleep till noon on weekends), and now my biological clock has been altered (for worse on weekends if I sleep late because I’ll still wake up early). But this routine has somehow made me become more productive throughout the day at the thought that I “accomplished” something before and beyond my normal, daily responsibilities. Maybe it’s the endorphins that are released when I do a kettle-ball circuit, or the straight blanket fold that makes my inner, Type A perfectionist? Who knows.

4. I learned to say “no” whenever I needed time for me, myself, and I. Everyone should fall into the trap, at first, of saying “yes” to everything when they move to a new place like NYC, much like the French tourists outside the restaurant in Little Italy. And it’s true — for many, FOMO is a real challenge when moving to a city like New York, something I definitely felt when I lived in the city for my internship summer. But there will come a time when you realize that you just can’t do everything or see everyone in the 24-hour days (or rather, 16 waking hours) / 7-day weeks (actually, the two weekend days when we’re actually free) that we have to live. Saying “yes” too often will stretch you thin. You may approach a burn-out point, whether at work or in your life outside of it, where lounging on your bed binge-watching the newest season of Succession till 2PM in the afternoon would actually be healthy for your mental health (disclaimer: I am not a health professional; this is solely based on my personal experience).

5. I wrote down my gratitudes every single day. As “cheesy” or “cliché” as it sounds, this really helped me to appreciate the small things amidst the normal, natural chaos in my life. So often are we so focused on what is in front of us — physically ( a computer screen from 9 to 5, an old friend during a coffee date at La Colombe, an abstract piece of art at a Chelsea gallery open house ) and metaphorically (what’s my next career move? Where should I travel to next? Should I go back to grad school?) — that we forget about living in the present. Pulling up my Notion app on my daily morning commute to work (or if I’m on any subway ride on the weekends), I scratched in at least 3 things I was grateful for about the day before. Many gratitudes were as basic as surviving fast 3.5 mile run from Seaport to Chelsea, getting a Zabar’s cranberry-orange pound cake my sister picked up for me, or baking under the sun on a beautiful day. Some were more substantial: winning the NYC housing lottery, confiding in my friends when I was feeling down, or celebrating a win at work. Actively thinking about what makes me grateful has helped me focus on the good rather than the bad parts of my day (and basic human psychology says we often focus on the bad things). I’ve also come to realize it’s often the amalgamation of the little things making you happy that sometimes is all that it takes to make a seemingly terrible day a better on.

What’s next? I will continuing sharing new thoughts and reflections that find their way into my brain, whether that be the recent book I’m reading for bookclub, the latest on gene-editing research, or my adventures living in Brooklyn.

In the meantime, remember to write down your gratitudes. It could be in your Notes app, on the back of an envelope, or in a blank journal you pick up from the bookstore next time you’re out and about.