Buzz
Relocating to a new city can completely upend your life, leaving you desperate to rebuild the comforting routine you once had. Following my latest move, I stumbled into several pitfalls that hindered my ability to truly settle in.
I’ve Been Attempting to Recreate the Places (and People) I Left Behind
Saying goodbye to your friends, go-to eateries, favorite trails, and other cherished spots is tough. However, if you really want to make things harder, spend your initial months in a new city searching for substitutes for everything you left behind. Unless you’ve moved to a city full of clones, this approach will backfire—you’ll end up dissatisfied with everything.
I learned this lesson the hard way after several major relocations. I caught myself mourning countless things I missed. I sought out a local bar to mimic my old haunt, bike trails reminiscent of my previous home, and even tried to find friends who could fill the void left by those I left behind. I was resistant to new experiences because they didn’t measure up to the familiarity of my past. Thoughts like, “This bar lacks the grungy, intimate vibe, and they don’t blast metal music,” or “He’s pleasant, but he’s not as impressive as so-and-so,” kept creeping in. Clearly, this mindset is foolish. Trying to replicate the past only holds you back.
So, I decided to broaden my perspective and embrace my new experiences for what they truly are. I explore unfamiliar places and spend time with new friends without constantly comparing them to the past. My local bar doesn’t have to mirror my old favorite spot, and my new friends don’t need to replicate the roles of those I left behind. Though it’s challenging to internalize, I’ve discovered that doing so allows me to enjoy myself far more.
I Fell Into a Routine Too Quickly
Routine is both a blessing and a curse. It simplifies life by eliminating the need to overthink your actions, but it also robs you of new opportunities. Just weeks after moving to Los Angeles, I found myself craving routine. I frequented the same grocery store, restaurants, and leisure spots repeatedly. This completely undermined the purpose of relocating—I never allowed myself the chance to truly explore.
As someone who thrives on habit, I heavily depend on routine. Once I identified a few favorite spots in my neighborhood, I kept returning to them without exploring further. Recently, while deciding where to meet a friend for dinner, I realized I’d only visited a handful of local restaurants, simply because they were convenient. That doesn’t even account for the countless places outside my neighborhood I’ve yet to visit. I made a conscious effort to try something new, and my friend and I ended up at a fantastic little pizza place I wouldn’t have considered otherwise.
It’s tempting to stick with what’s familiar, even if it’s a restaurant you’ve only visited twice. I adore new experiences, restaurants, stores, and more, but I often forget that. When I know exactly how long something will take or what to expect, it feels like it simplifies my life, but in reality, it just makes it dull.
I Was Too Quick to Judge People
When meeting new people, we often form instant opinions about them. While this is natural, I realized I was making overly negative judgments far too soon. Making friends as an adult is already challenging, but I managed to make it even more difficult for myself.
It wasn’t that I thought, “I don’t like this person,” but rather, “I don’t see myself spending time with them.” This mindset led me to avoid engaging in meaningful conversations because I assumed we’d never become close friends. Several factors contribute to this: preconceived ideas about Los Angeles residents, my own cynicism, and the natural tendency to guard my time. Unfortunately, this approach only leads to loneliness.
This issue ties back to my earlier problem of trying to replace old friends. I kept hoping to meet someone who mirrored the traits of someone I already knew, so they could fill that same role. When they inevitably didn’t match my expectations, I felt let down. Over the years, I’ve met countless people, and it’s nearly impossible not to compare them to others or stereotype them immediately.
I’ve been working on improving this habit. Now, I try to give people a fresh start when we first meet. I ask questions out of genuine curiosity rather than searching for artificial common ground to force a friendship. This allows me to enjoy conversations without the hidden agenda of forming an instant bond. Reflecting on it, many of my closest friendships aren’t based on shared interests but on mutual understanding and compatibility. Genuine friendships and routines take time to develop—trying to rush the process only leaves you feeling unfulfilled and wondering why you’re unhappy.
Illustration by Tina Mailhot-Roberge.
