Cord Jefferson writes that he once broke up with a girl (and turned down a free San Francisco apartment) for Brooklyn.
He too, used to be one of those people that smirked when friends said they were moving out of the city. Then he got a job in L.A. "Getting out of New York helped me rediscover the outside world, while living in LA has reminded me to ignore the world if you’re happy with where you are and what you’re doing," he wrote.
Here's a couple of other choice excerpts from his post in defense of the city, though it's worth reading the piece in full.
When I moved out of New York, I knew at the time that it was the best decision for my career and pocketbook. Only now have I come to realize how important leaving was for my sanity, as well. Not that I was afflicted with claustrophobia or exhaustion or any of the pseudo-ailments with which so many hypochondriac New Yorkers diagnose themselves. Rather, I’d deliberately forgotten that life outside New York is just as pure and valid as life inside New York, which is a hazard of the City just the same as street crime, and one that’s far more prevalent.
New York City is a beautiful and thrilling place, and I cherish every wandering night and icy morning I spent there. But I’ve grown to love LA even more, particularly because its underdog status, and the way people point and giggle at it from their brunch tables Back East, makes it simple for me and my neighbors to ground ourselves. Angelinos have a reputation for being abnormally casual—flip-flops to board meetings and that sort of thing. Perhaps we’re not casual so much as we’re resigned: It’s easy to find the lighter side of life when nobody takes you seriously.
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