Back in the City - Back to Reality

big city, small connections

Living in NYC, I've come to realize how strange people are. Everyone has a story. Growing up in Denver I think that it was difficult for me to realize this because people living in the west don't like to admit their insecurites, not to mention we have way less contact with eachother. When you take away subways, rows and rows of busy streets, and mixed residential/commercial neighborhoods it's easy to see how easy it is to emit a Stepford apearance.

But I suppose the beauty of NYC's individuality comes at a price: anonymity. Everyday I interact with hundreds of different people. I've gotten to know such a little fraction of them and make up back stories for the rest. But the ones you truly get to know, get to understand, get to empathize with are precious, amazing, wonderful, and rare. Even if their story is bleak, even if they've found themselves in a rut, even if they're a shity human being, I think it's important to listen. Americans avoid revelations; they see their worlds in black and white and often prefer not to deviate from their core values. I think this is because they refuse to listen. Everyone's reality is different but they're all intermingling, entangled, and ultimately effect one-another.

I write all this because I've come across quite a few people who have opened up to me recently. One person I'd consider myself fairly close to told me about their somewhat disturbing childhood. Another confidant opened up about how s/he has a partner on the side of his/her serious relationship to help improve his/her self worth (and the significant other being ok with and even encouraging the situation). When I came back from Colorado I had the chance to meet a close acquaintance's friends, something I never thought would happen.  And in reality I've shared a lot about myself with others as well; I refused to welcome one friend into my room until fairly recently because I knew of their obsession with cleanliness and order. I've told a handful about some "secrets" I've been harboring (but honestly wish I could just treat as normal facts of life). I've even come to realize one of my biggest faults through an intimate conversation with someone I am fairly close to yet very different from: my inability to formulate questions. I live in my own little bubble and it's amazing to me when people make an effort to penetrate it-and over all it's something that I can't help but appreciate.

I guess it's rare to be able to find someone you trust enough to talk candidly about abnormalities of life but it is essential. Otherwise we'd all just be anonymous anomalies to one another.