Moving from the suburbs of New Jersey to New York City in my 20s felt like a long-earned milestone. And for a while, I loved it.
Although my 9-to-5 kept me busy, I spent a lot of time trying out restaurants and coffee shops, attending events where I could meet creatives, make friends, and enjoy all the city had to offer.
Then, I lost my job. In an effort to keep the life I’d been building, I attended networking events and social meetups while rapidly checking off items on my NYC bucket list.
Without work keeping me in New York, though, I ran out of reasons to stay. After almost a year there, I moved back to New Jersey to live with my family, telling myself that this would just be a pit stop before I returned to New York.
That didn’t end up being the case … but I didn’t exactly stay in Jersey, either.
For months, I tried living in different cities in search of a place I could truly call home
While back in New Jersey, I was cat-sitting in different neighborhoods to make extra money and get out of the house. It reminded me how much I loved visiting new places — and within six months of being home in the suburbs, I really missed city life.
So, I decided I’d combine my cat-sitting gigs, love of travel, and desire to find a new city to live in. With my family’s house in Jersey as my home base, I would test out living in a few different places, hoping to find one where I truly felt I belonged.
To start, I made a list of cities I’d always been curious about, ones with a reputation for great public transit, amazing weather, or even a rich cultural scene.
I packed my life into a carry-on and began my experiment with four distinct cities: London; Toronto; Los Angeles; and Washington, DC.
Between April and July, I stayed for one or two weeks at an apartment in each, with the intention of living like a local. I was able to find accommodations through cat-sitting gigs.
Traveling from place to place was exhilarating, filled with new people and experiences I couldn’t have had anywhere else.
Unfortunately, no city delivered the complete picture, whether it wasn’t as walkable as I’d hoped or felt much too far from family. More importantly, none felt like home. I wondered if I was looking for something that wasn’t there.
Eventually, I realized the experiment itself was my answer. I didn’t need to focus on finding a forever address; I was happiest when I kept moving.
Instead of waiting for my next opportunity, I decided to make my own
For a while, I dreamed of finding a remote job that would offer me consistent work while I continue exploring the world. Instead of waiting for that opportunity to appear, though, I began creating a way to support my semi-nomadic lifestyle.
Over the past year, I’ve continued using my family’s house in Jersey as my home base while traveling on a budget and pursuing freelance content creation.
I started my own magazine and began documenting my travels on TikTok. I don’t pay rent on a place of my own and still cat-sit, too, which helps keep my accommodation costs low.
Sure, this lifestyle comes with trade-offs: I’m always packing and unpacking and going long stretches without seeing friends and family. My income isn’t steady, either.
Part of me still yearns to find a sense of belonging in one of the cities I visit, but finding a forever home is no longer guiding my journey.
In the end, it took living in five different cities to discover that home isn’t where your packages arrive, it’s where you feel valued and motivated.
For me, I feel at home when I’m on the move — and it doesn’t matter where I’m supposed to be if I’m being who I’m supposed to be.
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