The City That Taught Me How to Keep Going: NYC at 19

By: Grace Chung

Cars are honking before the sun even rises. Laughter slips through my dorm room wall. The low rumble of the 6 train gently shakes the floor beneath my bed. As I wake up for another day in New York City, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude to be greeted by the sounds of a city that never sleeps.

Life as a student at New York University is all about three things: ambition, gratitude, and determination. As a nineteen-year-old living in SoHo, it’s the hardest feeling to put into words… living your dreams in real time and being aware of it. It’s the kind of awareness that makes you want to squeeze every second out of the day, to live each moment like it matters, because it does. It’s almost a blessing and a curse, the drive that New York City gifts you the second you set foot here. The constant pull to become the best version of yourself. To take every opportunity. To prove that you deserve to be here. But if some see that feeling as a curse, I choose to see these four years of my life as a complete and undeniable blessing.

My days as an NYU student are endlessly fulfilling. I wake up, go to the gym, eat good food at my favorite iconic NYC restaurants, work multiple jobs trying to keep up with the expensive city, and run from classes to student government meetings, throwing myself into a million things just so I can soak it all in. And through these experiences, I realized that it’s the minutes in between that mean the most. The casual walks through Washington Square Park with a La Colombe coffee in hand, just because that’s my path to class. Walking home through SoHo, the very neighborhood I used to take a New Jersey Transit bus to on weekends just to explore. Stepping outside my dorm building and realizing that no matter how humid, hot, or freezing cold the city is, all I see is beauty. Every single time.

I vividly remember my first few months at NYU. I had this gorgeous view of downtown New York. I could see the Freedom Towers, three bridges, and a skyline that looked like it was pulled straight out of a movie. I lived on the twenty-fifth floor of one of the best NYU dorms, and I remember standing at my window almost every night with a deep, sinking gut feeling that I had made the wrong decision. 

Every student here will tell you the same thing: it is extremely difficult to find yourself in this city. It isn’t a myth that everyone is rushing from point A to point B, completely lost in their own world. When you’re fresh out of high school and suddenly dropped into New York City, it can feel like it’s every man for themselves. Like you’re supposed to just know who you are, where you’re going, and who you’re meant to be with, even though you’ve barely had time to breathe. I had the hardest time making friends because it isn’t game days and frat parties where everyone is moving toward the same destination. Everyone is actually headed… everywhere. This leads to an inevitable disconnect between students here because there’s no traditional sense of school spirit. No packed stadiums. No chants echoing across campus. Honestly, do we even have a catchphrase? I don’t know. I recently found out our mascot isn’t even a violet flower like I thought, but it’s a bobcat. And somehow, that realization perfectly captured how confusing it all felt. 

So, how did I start to find myself in New York City? One day, I put my headphones in and started listening to music on my walk to class. And, unexpectedly, that changed everything. It sounds simple, but here, simple is the solution. I listened to songs like “New York, New York,” “Empire State of Mind,” “Lost Folks”, songs that just screamed New York City. Slowly, the imposter syndrome began to fade. I started settling into the fact that I am here now. That I earned my place here. And that finding my people would take effort. It’s funny because at NYU, academics are almost the least of your worries. It’s making friends. So I joined a sorority. I joined the student government. I got an on-campus job and picked up part-time work. I surrounded myself with people through shared spaces, shared effort, and shared ambition. And to no one’s surprise, it worked.

Simply trying has helped shape me into someone who feels most alive when I’m actively doing something that moves me closer to the future I want. I’ve fallen in love with working at different cafes. By taking long walks to new places. With going to the gym even when I don’t feel like it. And most importantly, I journal every day to keep myself grounded in a city that moves so fast you sometimes forget to stop and process. My escape and my home will always be myself. Not in the critical, lonely “all I have is myself” kind of way, but in the empowering, “all I have is myself” way. I am my own best friend, and I have to take care of myself and treasure myself in order to succeed and build another home here at NYU. It may have taken me a semester or two to learn this, but now that I have, I feel secure in myself. 

One of my favorite things about going from a small suburban town in New Jersey to New York City is my closet. I used to wear Brandy Melville, pajama pants, and basically rotate the same five oversized hoodies to class every day in high school. Now it’s boots, fur coats, flashy jewelry… basically a girl’s dream. I’ve never felt happier getting dressed in the morning, choosing who I want to be that day, and dolling myself up exactly how I want to. I quickly learned that here, fashion means a lot. It isn’t just about looking good. What you wear and how you present yourself says something about your personality before you ever open your mouth. I remember telling my freshman year roommate that I felt like I was subconsciously judging people based on how cute or creative their outfits were. Of course, that isn’t the best way of thinking, but it kind of just happens when so many students treat every day like a runway. At NYU, you don’t need fancy dinners, parties, or special occasions to dress up. If you want to dress up, everyone celebrates it. And if you don’t, that’s just as normal. What an amazing culture.

The biggest change to my wardrobe has definitely been color. I used to live in white and grey, but since getting here, I own more black clothing than I ever imagined. I think it’s because I see the city as cool and sexy, and something about black-on-black makes me feel powerful. A little badass, even. And one day, I caught myself throwing on a pair of jeans and a cute top and had this realization: this used to be my “going out” outfit. Now it’s just my everyday NYU outfit. Things change quickly here. You change quickly here. And it’s kind of magical to notice how the city reshapes you. On the topic of going-out outfits, I’ve perfected my version of a traditional NYU formula: any going-out top from Princess Polly or Edikted, a black mini skirt, knee-high heeled boots, and if it’s cold, a leather jacket. (And yes, I have absolutely fallen victim to owning an excessive amount of going-out tops.) 

A little secret of mine is that before I came to NYU, I told my brother I wanted to rebuild my kingdom in college. I say this because in high school, I was everywhere. Class president. Lead roles in theater productions. Running the morning news show. President of seven different clubs. At one point, I was even on the cheer team. My face was familiar, and my presence was known. And I wanted to find that version of myself again here. I knew it would be hard. I mean, this school is huge. But slowly, as I started posting on social media, my face began to feel familiar again. And I would never consider myself an “it girl,” but maybe I’m “that girl.” Because putting yourself out there is terrifying. 

People love to say content creation is easy. I know this because before I became a creator, I said the same things: “It’s so easy.” “They’re living life on easy mode.” But if it’s so easy… why doesn’t everyone do it? Starting a platform is the hardest part because it requires vulnerability with no guarantee of validation. Trying to seriously post on TikTok and getting no views feels like posting the best picture of yourself on Instagram and getting ten likes. Everyone saw it. But no one chose to acknowledge it. And I still get discouraged sometimes. But instead of letting that discomfort stop me, I’ve learned to use it as fuel. The feelings of embarrassment, doubt, and fear don’t scare me. I turn all of it into motivation to keep going. Because here’s the truth: confidence isn’t real. Most of the time, it’s a facade. We are our own harshest critics, which makes genuine confidence incredibly hard. But before you start anything, you have to like yourself, support yourself, and believe in yourself when no one else is clapping yet. When you let yourself love what you love and be undeniably you, confidence doesn’t need to be forced because it shows up naturally. And for me, I am fully confident in one thing: I am capable.

When I start to feel bad about myself, I usually end up at San Marzano, eating a warm bowl of pasta and listening to my friends remind me who I am. But I’ve also learned that support doesn’t magically appear and that you have to ask for it. It’s important to know what you need from others so they have the chance to show up for you. Because even when you feel alone, there will always be someone willing to sit beside you, listen to you, and care about you. Sometimes, rebuilding your kingdom isn’t about becoming famous or known. Sometimes, it’s about becoming someone you’re proud of. And that’s the version of success I’m chasing.

So if you’ve ever thought about taking a huge leap of faith and coming to a school like NYU, or moving to a city like New York… do it. Trust yourself enough to believe that you will make it and that you will figure it out. Because there is nothing more gratifying than being completely uncertain and deeply uncomfortable and then one day realizing you’re not anymore. My advice is to romanticize every part of your day, even if that means spending ten dollars on your favorite coffee order. Sit in Washington Square Park and watch tourists who spend thousands of dollars just to take one photo under the arch. Go to Central Park and lay in the grass when it gets warm. Wander. Explore. Say yes. Do everything and just live. Because if I could have a conversation with my freshman-year self, it would be that everything will always work out. And there will always be a calm after the storm. It’s not even about New York City. It’s about life. Being in New York has taught me that the world will never slow down for you. But this pushes me to keep going, to keep working, and to keep trying. Because every day when I step out into the city and see adults rushing to work, riding the same subway I take to class, I’m reminded that a future is waiting for me here. And when that day comes…I’ll be ready. 

I certainly don’t have my life figured out yet. But I think what makes me different is that I find this exciting. There is time (no matter how old you are, no matter where you are in life) to pause and sit with the endless possibilities of what your future could look like. There is time to change your mind. So, did I make the wrong decision by coming to New York University? Absolutely not. Because there is no such thing as a wrong decision when there are still a million more choices waiting for me, and a million more versions of myself I haven’t met yet. I just have to remember that faith will take me far, in the world, and within myself. And that this is something no one has control over but me. So while it can sometimes feel like everything is out of my hands, like I’m behind, like it’s “too late”… I know that it’s not. The solution will always be a shift in perspective. And this is one that I’m still learning how to make. And I know you can learn how to make it too.