I moved to Boston expecting to love it. I only lasted a year.

Shortly before my 23rd birthday, I was diagnosed with Asperger’s, now known as autism spectrum disorder.

I’d been studying to become a high school English teacher. However, after a difficult substitute teaching internship, I decided that path wasn’t for me.

The glitzy city of Boston felt like the logical next step, so in 2010, I moved from my small hometown of Stonington, CT, to Boston, expecting to love it.

I hadn’t considered how the city’s hustle and bustle would clash with my neurodivergence, and it was a hard lesson learned.

I couldn’t land a consistent job I wanted

I started working in retail, first at Tiffany & Co., but I didn’t make it through training.

Then I tried a commission-based job at Jimmy Choo, but my neurodivergence made it difficult for me to talk to people and sell them on certain items. Ultimately, this led to a conversation with my boss, during which I tearfully explained my diagnosis, and we both agreed I should give my two weeks’ notice.

Then, I was a transcriptionist for a company called Sten-Tel, but little work was available and didn’t pay enough for me to get by.

I eventually took a hostessing job at McCormick & Schmick’s, where I worked up until I left the city.

Riding the public transport stressed me out

I loathed the “T,” aka the MBTA subway system in Boston. Being autistic, I didn’t like the crowds to begin with, and the MBTA subways were often packed. I also got nauseous and a bit fearful when the train swayed around turns.

This was during my pre-AirPod days, and it wasn’t easy putting up with these sensory issues, especially since my sensitive stomach prevented me from reading while in transit to distract myself.

And despite the city’s walkability, I couldn’t get everywhere on foot, and I became impatient, frustrated, and stressed whenever I had to use the subway.

My living and social situations weren’t ideal, either

I couldn’t afford to live in Boston alone, so I rented an apartment with two other people.

I already knew from my college dorm days that living with multiple roommates wasn’t easy, and my Boston roommates were no exception.

One of my roommate’s dogs kept using my room as a toilet. As an animal lover, I blamed the human and committed the petty crime of ice cream theft.

Despite all the bad, there are a couple of fond memories, like the pair of Burberry rain boots I bought in the city that I still wear, and how cool it was to meet Jesse Eisenberg while he was promoting a movie.

I moved back to my hometown in Connecticut 1 year after living in Boston

When I told people I was moving back to Connecticut, I claimed this was mainly to save up the money needed for grad school in the fall. However, in reality, I knew it was because Boston, and perhaps any big city, wasn’t for me.

That lesson has stuck with me, especially as I’ve come to recognize my sensory sensitivity and how this clashes with the hustle and bustle of a large city.

I’m still grateful for my experiences in Boston, though. It taught me that, while I can live on my own and find things to occupy my time, a city like Boston is not where I’m meant to live.

I now live in Westerly, RI, a fairly quiet beach town — at least during the off season. My work is fully remote as a ghostwrite, proofreader, freelance writer, and film critic.

The more laid-back lifestyle here is better suited to my personality than what I’d experienced in Boston. And whenever I feel inclined to experience city life, I head to Providence for an evening or two.

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