On being unemployed and living in New York City

New York — concrete jungle where dreams are made of. Wall Street — luring the young and ambitious. From a Jay-Z song to one of the greatest pieces of modern literature, The Great Gatsby, these are consistently referenced themes in pop culture. Bottom line: New York City is where you go to make it.

But what happens when you don’t?

A corporate lay-off. A company that wasn’t quite the right fit. And suddenly, the glitz and the glam of your aspirations — being 25 and a senior something of somewhere, uncovering the next digital trend that changes the game, the big idea that was sure to take off and make you millions — come crashing down. You are young, and you are no longer making it.

The universe metaphorically acknowledges your coming-to-terms with this overwhelming realization — 5o-story skyscrapers shroud you, casting shadows that feel depressingly appropriate for this dark path of unemployment. This once seemingly-bright city is now so bleak.

New York, I love you, but you’re bringing me down. Finally, some realistic perspective from LCD Soundsystem, playing on repeat in my one bedroom-converted apartment. A whirlwind of likely unrealistic expectations — set by me, but influenced by the city that never sleeps, no doubt — unmet and unaccomplished.

Where do I go next?

Will I make it?

And then one day, you are on Sixth Avenue. You look up. (When was the last time you looked up?) To the north east, you see the Empire State Building. Directly south, there’s the World Trade Center. A mixture of awe, gratitude and inspiration comes flooding in.

Holy shit, I am in New York.

The electrifying innovations of Silicon Alley. The grandeur and prestigious establishments of Midtown. The frantic buzz, the “cha-ching!” of FiDi. It’s all here, and so are you.

That little voice inside your head eliminates the earlier sentiments of doubt and self-shaming: I am in New York, and I’m going to make it.

You can’t help but be optimistic— there’s just too much possibility.