We bought a fixer-upper in a coastal Connecticut town. In a year, we built a suburban life that’s so good I don’t miss NYC.

• I spent my 20s living my best life in New York City in small apartments — then I fell in love.
• Engaged and approaching my 30s, I moved to the suburbs in Greenwich, Connecticut, with my partner.
• The coastal town is still close to NYC, and I’ve fallen in love with living here in every season.

At 22, I had big dreams.

A recent college grad, I wanted to write for a magazine and embrace the glitz and glam of Manhattan while living in a stylish loft fit for Carrie Bradshaw.

In reality, my overpriced apartment was more “shoebox chic” with a galley kitchen and the smallest closet imaginable. Though it was tiny and sometimes had the aroma of weed wafting through the walls, it was adorable.

And, throughout my 20s, I did create the life I’d imagined, complete with boozy brunches, rooftop parties, and coffee dates on the steps of the Met that felt like a scene from “Gossip Girl.”

Approaching 30 kicked off a brand-new stage: I moved in with the man of my dreams, he proposed, and wedding plans commenced.

Beautiful gifts from our registry arrived, with no room to enjoy them. We were so over our cramped apartment, the crowded subways, and the impending rent increases.

This soon-to-be-newlywed began daydreaming of a walk-in closet and moonlit evenings dancing barefoot on a luscious lawn (not pavement), surrounded by stars and silence (not traffic).

I pictured hydrangea gardens, a guest bedroom with crisp linens, and slow weekends spent sipping coffee on my front porch.

It was officially time to turn the page on my 20s and embrace an era fit for a Nancy Meyers movie.

We headed to the suburbs of Connecticut

We set our sights on Greenwich, Connecticut, close to family. Nestled on the Long Island Sound, this suburban town offers a picturesque coastal vibe.

Think: tree-lined streets, cedar-shingled New England-style homes by the beach adorned with flower boxes, charming book nooks with vintage treasures, and boutiques with breezy linen dresses.

At 40 minutes by train from NYC, it’s an ideal commuting distance for my husband, whose job is still based there.

A competitive housing market, inflated prices, and rising mortgage rates made our pursuit challenging. We spent date nights scrolling listings on Zillow. Whenever our real-estate agent called, we hopped on a train to tour potential new homes.

Three months later, we had an accepted offer. Enter: our three-bedroom, two-bath fixer-upper in Greenwich.

Leaving behind the apartment where we’d made many memories—and the city where my husband proposed — was bittersweet, but we excitedly packed our bags and hit the ‘burbs.

In one year, we created the cozy home of our dreams

We chose the path of most resistance to create our own Nancy Meyers dream in real life. Since we weren’t building new, we opted for the next best thing: a home we could renovate and make our own.

Our little love nest had wall-to-wall carpeting and a dateed linoleum kitchen floor. The roof leaked. We didn’t dare venture up the creaky steps of the front porch.

We rolled up our sleeves and got to work.

Not only did I learn how to use a hammer, but I also swapped browsing the racks of Zara for scouring the aisles of Home Depot.

Walls were demolished; new floors, windows, and doors installed; a fireplace constructed; and shiplap positioned. After a year, our dream kitchen and master bath became a reality.

All in all, I’ve fallen in love with suburban life during every season

We’ve now lived here for about two years, and I love that each season in Greenwich brings new traditions.

Spring and summer (“patio season”) commences with Lilly Pulitzer sundresses, limoncello spritzes, and socializing on the Ave. It also means hosting garden parties where loved ones can finally fit around our farm table.

On weekends, we kick back on our front porch in wicker furniture with good books and the sounds of a babbling brook nearby.

Autumn calls for jack-o’-lantern carving around our firepit, toasting marshmallows, and sipping mulled wine.

We get trick-or-treaters now that we’re in the suburbs, so we line the driveway with pumpkins to welcome them.

Christmastime means harvesting a large balsam fir, which we finally have the room for. We like to decorate it with velvet ribbons and hand-painted ornaments in the light of our fireplace as holiday music plays in the background.

Hosting around the holidays is especially fun. It’s easier to create grand tablescapes and charcuterie arrangements now that I’ve got the space to store different decorations, candlesticks, chargers, glasses, and napkin rings.

This suburban lifestyle is so nice that it’s hard to miss the city

Now that I have a cutting garden, I can decorate with fresh floral bouquets and snip herbs and heirloom tomatoes for my meal preps, too.

With an extra bedroom, we’ve got lots of space to host friends for weekend getaways, especially those who want an escape from city life. I find joy in making their stay extra special —there’s always a fresh set of towels and lavender bath soap waiting on the guest bed.

All in all, I wouldn’t trade spending my 20s in NYC for the world, but my 30s in the ‘burbs have been off to an incredible start.

Though I don’t make it into the city as often as I thought I would, I’m OK with it. Our cozy cottage — dubbed Hydrangea House — and our Nancy Meyers-style life make it hard to leave.

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