Why I Left NYC

I've always identified as a New Yorker, thriving on the city's energy and constant motion. But at 27, I woke up with a face full of acne after never having a blemish. Something in me said to stop. I realized something was wrong and I needed to get off the hamster wheel. Instead of always doing, I craved just to be. Despite making six figures right out of college and basking in the prestige of working at fancy banks, I felt completely unstable within myself. I was agitated, angry, and confused. Wasn’t I doing everything right? Everything I was “supposed” to be doing? Sure, but my soul was hungry. I craved something grounding; somewhere where I could literally put my feet on the earth; something quite different from what the concrete jungle provided.

It took a journey across the world, notably to Israel and Indonesia, for me to disconnect from my old life and reconnect with my body. In Israel, I saw the true meaning of family. I saw how the city shut down on Shabbat so people could have dinner with their loved ones. I got invited to these dinners by cab drivers and retail salesmen and people I had just met, to eat with their families. I saw how people cared for each other. Unlike where I had been, there wasn’t always an agenda to receive something in return, but rather to give and extend love because of the goodness of their hearts. I felt a sense of kinship I hadn’t experienced with lavish corporate meals. I was happier and my acne started to heal.

The following year, I went to Bali, excited about the prospect of getting my yoga and meditation teaching certificates. I embarked on a dopamine detox. I barely touched my phone and walked barefoot on the earth, feeling grounded in the most literal sense. For the first time, my nervous system shifted from the relentless fight-or-flight state—a mode where the body is constantly prepared to confront danger—to a calm, restorative parasympathetic mode. In New York, life had been a perpetual hustle, always ready for the next challenge. Unknowingly, I was in this state almost always! But in Bali, my system recalibrated for the first time in a long time to a rest-and-digest state rather than one of constant alertness.

Returning to the cacophony of New York post-Bali bliss was jarring. The noise of construction, honking cars, and yelling people overwhelmed me. I remember attending a wedding soon after my return and spending most of it outside on the grass. The old me would have been at the center of the dance floor, but now I just wanted to feel the earth beneath my feet, close my eyes, and lay down in silence. I wanted to melt into Pachamama (yes, I couldn’t believe I started talking like this but I definitely became someone who does). Even my taste in music changed! I used to listen to loud bangers, but now I found myself craving medicine music. Who was I becoming? I didn’t know, but I liked her a whole lot better than manic-mad-Madeline.

As I evolved, I noticed my previous conversations often revolved around gossip, a habit I found distasteful within myself. My personal growth had shifted towards a more conscious, kinder way of living, one that my old environment no longer supported. In my newer spiritual circles, conversations felt deeper and more meaningful, focusing on gratitude, family systems, past lives, and healing. I still kept my lifelong New Yorker friends and even made some beautiful new ones, but the relationships that centered around drinking and gossiping fell to the wayside.

The constant pressure to be productive left little room for genuine rest, which itself felt like a guilty indulgence. The cycle was vicious: work tirelessly, feel the agitation of unmet rest, seek escape through numbing activities—drinking, shopping, drugs—and repeat. The chase to escape fight-or-flight mode was exhausting. I was perpetually on edge, even when I didn’t realize it. Only now, looking back, do I see how my body has reached better levels of homeostasis, thanks to more sleep and meditation.

Now, I leave more time to unwind, to rest, to receive. I used to feel so busy with so many plans, only to cancel them from exhaustion. Now, I barely make plans, leaving me open to what the universe has in store. Today even, I canceled a plan because I am on my period. That was my excuse, and you know what? It felt right and the other person understood. This is the world I am attracted to now. One of understanding and connection to the human body. One that values rest and digest just as much as it values “doing.” One that values doing the inner work as much as the outer work to make a living. 

Leaving New York wasn’t about rejecting the city. In fact, I just visited and had a blast, and will be visiting again in a few weeks. During these times, I host women’s circles and connect with beautiful people with whom I have deep and meaningful relationships. Leaving the city was more about finding myself; it was about reconnecting with nature, embracing a more sustainable lifestyle, seeking more spiritual and emotional connections, and breaking free from the cycle of relentless productivity that rides on little sleep and genuine self-care.

Self-care doesn’t mean spending hundreds of dollars at a spa or a shop because you “deserve” it from working so much and this is your relief. Self-care means genuinely having boundaries about what you can and can’t handle and honoring them. It means honoring your no. It means putting your body and your health before your output… how can you have proper output if you don’t feel good in your body? This is the way of preventative health… to prevent disease down the line we must listen to our bodies NOW, and how can we listen if we’re always on alert in fight/flight? If we do not take the time to slow down and hear what it’s saying, how will we know? It’s important to do, just not overdo, and it’s just as if not more important to be. I ask you, where does your hustle come from? Is it an innate sense of work and worth? Or is there a sense of “proving yourself?” If the latter is the case, I would ask why you feel the need to prove yourself? I am here to tell you that you are worthy just as you are. You are worthy just for being you. What would happen if you just allowed yourself to be?