A sentence I never thought I would say: I can’t believe it’s true — I miss my childhood in New York.
When I left New York at the ripe age of 10, I was elated. I couldn’t wait to leave the incessant glow of buildings and the corral of noisy taxi cabs behind me, all for a tiny, whimsical suburbia in Connecticut with deer, fireflies, and s’mores in the summertime.
Now I know suburbia was a suffocating bubble full of like-minded individuals, not eager to challenge their beliefs. I spent the rest of my time in school testing how far those limits would go, and bouncing back against the concrete walls of this “bubble.”Â
However, I also know New York is full of gentrification and warnings of “always watch your surroundings.” But Boston, my new home for the next four years, makes me think back to all those rose-colored formative moments in the Big Apple before I caught fireflies with my own hands.
It makes me think back to when I first learned my “subway stance,” likely on the 6 train on my way to school or to visit my dad at work. The times I would giggle or be quick to grab the pole when the train moved and I wasn’t ready.Â
It makes me think of Halloween, when I would pass by the brownstones in awe, or roam through my apartment building in hopes of king-size candy bars. Traipsing in my princess costume, embodying elegance and grace as I sashayed with my imaginary crown.Â
It makes me think back to the tiny glimpses of Central Park. The ones that marked the changing of the seasons in the trees I studied on the Great Lawn, or memories of games my sister and I played atop rocks in a random clearing (our alien spaceship).Â
All the little things, all those moments of childish whimsy, make me miss New York.
That said, I do think there is beauty to be taken with that realization — that even through the bad, or circumstances that may seem less than ideal, life still has magic. The magic of still being able to catch fireflies or roast marshmallows through it all, or adapt to life’s changing tracks on the subway.Â
My longing for those ghosts of Zara’s past makes me notice the small moments and motivates me to embrace the opportunities of Boston. These moments in college, of laughing with friends, grabbing a bagel before class, or the feeling of completing a dreaded assignment, are moments that I am certain future Zara will look back on with a smile. These moments will become future nostalgia, just like my childhood in New York, which I will treasure forever.
Our pasts are always present in our futures.
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