The NYC Dilemma

Thank you so much for the messages after last week’s Is This It? It means a lot to know we’re not alone in wrestling with the messy, beautiful uncertainty of building a life that feels right.

Now let's talk about this week's quote from my Notes app vault:

“There’s no right choices; there are only choices that are right for you.”

As you know by now, potty training has taken over our lives. While accidents are minimal at this point, it's now one of these constant considerations factored into every decision we make.

Potty training and proximity to a toilet are temporary, but this phase feels especially meaningful because it coincides with deeper self-reflection on a bigger question: Is this it? Is NYC where we're intended to be for the greatest growth and opportunities?

On a more micro level, any given Tuesday involves proactively researching upcoming weekend activities, figuring out logistics of getting there, checking the weather forecast. And then the day arrives: get dressed, leave the apartment, get exercise, get home, eat, nap, pepper in potty breaks, repeat. All just to avoid going stir-crazy in our apartment.

But here's the thing - this isn't really about parenting. That's just the catalyst. This is about something much bigger that I think anyone who's ever built a life in this city - or any ambitious, demanding place - eventually faces.

There's something every place we choose to live does to us… for me, that something in NYC is completely invisible and intangible, but absolutely real. It gives you this drive, this hustle, this sense of competitive edge that becomes part of your DNA. You walk faster, think faster, expect more from yourself and everyone around you.

Living here, there's this constant undercurrent that you could be "someone." And I don't mean someone with a million followers or the next unicorn startup - though maybe that's how some people define it. I mean that feeling that if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. Frank Sinatra wasn't just writing a catchy lyric - he was describing something real about what this place does to your sense of possibility.

But here's the paradox: NYC makes you feel like you could be someone, yet, often leaves you feeling incredibly lonely. That's not a contradiction - that's the price of admission to a place that runs on ambition.

There's also this weird way the city forces clarity through constraint. We live in small spaces, so every possession has to justify its existence. Do I really need an entire room taken over by toys just because we have the space? Do we need more kitchen gadgets for Instagram meals we'll never actually make?

There’s something almost therapeutic about this forced simplicity. When space costs what it costs here, everything has to earn its place. There's a zen to that kind of intentionality that you don't get when you have endless suburban storage. 

And honestly? I find myself calmest when I'm at home in NYC. The chaos and pace - it centers me. Maybe my brain just runs at 100 mph naturally, and the city gives it permission to function at that speed instead of trying to slow down for everyone else.

But then life evolves. You couple up. You start building something bigger than just your individual ambition. Maybe you have kids, or you're planning to, or you're just at that point where you're thinking about the future in a different way.

And suddenly you're forced to examine whether your environment still serves the life you're trying to create.

This is where the parenting piece comes in - not because it's just about parents, but because kids make the trade-offs impossible to ignore. When most weekends revolve around entertaining kids or escaping the city with them, you begin to wonder: why pay so much to live somewhere I’m desperate to get away from?

But it's bigger than parenting. It's about any moment when your priorities expand beyond just feeding your own ambition. When you're in a serious relationship and asking "what kind of life do we want to build together?" When you're looking at aging parents and wondering if you should be closer. When you're calculating whether your earning potential is worth what it's costing you in every other area of life.

The question I keep returning to: If I leave NYC (and for you - wherever you call home) do I lose the person it made me? Or can I carry forward the best parts and shed what no longer serves? Or is it so tied to the environment that removing yourself means becoming someone fundamentally different?

But equally important: If you stay, what are you choosing? Are you staying because this version of yourself is worth preserving, or are you staying out of fear of who you might become elsewhere? What's the cost of feeding that ambition indefinitely - to your relationships, your peace of mind, your ability to be present for the life you're actually living?

It's about the universal tension between the environments that shape us and the lives we want to build.

We all have places, situations, or contexts that bring out certain versions of ourselves. The question is whether those versions still serve us as our lives evolve. Whether we're optimizing for who we are now or who we're becoming. Whether we're building toward the future we actually want or just maintaining the momentum of who we used to be.

Staying is a choice with consequences and not choosing is still a choice.

And maybe that's okay. Maybe the answer isn't to solve this dilemma but to recognize that these tensions - between ambition and peace, between possibility and presence, between who we are and who we're becoming - maybe those tensions are just part of building a life that matters. And it’s at this point in the writing process where I was reminded of another quote that I hold onto:

“At one point in your life you prayed for all of this.”

I keep coming back to this quote because it stops me in my tracks every time. The gratitude I feel for what we've built - for who we've become - it's almost overwhelming when I really sit with it.

Adulting is hard. Like, really hard.

The dedication it takes, the sweat, the hustle, the determination to keep showing up when you'd rather stay in bed. But here's what I'm learning: we need to give ourselves more credit for the journey it took to arrive here.

Yes, there's still this outstanding question about our environment, about our future, about whether we're in the right place. But what I know for certain is that the blessings we have today - this life, this partnership, this tiny human who's currently mastering the potty - these are things we prayed for yesterday. Our environment, our home, helped make those prayers reality.

Words become things. Dreams become life. And sometimes the very thing you're questioning is the thing you once desperately wanted.

At this moment, I’m focusing on regularly auditing whether my environment still serves my evolving priorities. Sounds simple, but with a spouse… and family… it’s complex. Because suddenly your environment isn't just about serving your individual priorities - it's about balancing individual, partnership, and family needs all at once.

Remember last week when I talked about the things you'll never realize you're learning? This is one of them. Learning how to regularly check in on whether your life setup still works - not just when you're in crisis mode, but as an ongoing practice. For what it’s worth, my situation has my audit meter skewing more to crisis mode at the moment…

What's working? What's not? What did we optimize for two years ago that no longer serves us today? And most importantly - are we staying intentional about what we're building, or just maintaining momentum from who we used to be?

So I don't know what we're going to do. Maybe we'll stay and double down on this version of ourselves. Maybe we'll leave and discover new versions we didn't know existed. Maybe we'll keep having this conversation every few years as life shifts around us.

But I think the conversation itself is the point. Because asking "is this it?" isn't really about dissatisfaction. It's about being intentional about what you're building.

And that question - that willingness to examine whether your choices still serve your evolving life - that might be the most important thing any of us can do, regardless of what city we call home. I couldn't help but wonder... what if the question isn't whether this is the right place to build our life, but whether we're brave enough to keep becoming people we haven't met yet?

Is this it? Maybe. Maybe not. But at least we're asking… and that’s everything.

If this resonated, hit subscribe, share it with anyone who might benefit, and reply with your own ‘Is This It?’ moments. I’d love to hear from you.

Let’s make Is This It? a Friday stop on your way to whatever’s next.

Until next Friday,

Chris

Next Week: Inches & Fractions: how the little choices we’ve made so far have quietly shaped our story, and why those tiny steps still hold the power to change what’s next.