The New York Chapter

Without a doubt, this was the hardest and most soul-crushing period of my life. It was heartbreak, poverty, insanity, and desperation that played a key role in forging who I am today.

Despite how grim it all was, I’m glad I went through it. As Nietzsche said: “That which does not kill me makes me stronger,” and that sentiment is especially poignant in this chapter of my life.

Prelude

The events leading up to my decision to move are key to understanding the entire picture. I had just recently gone through a breakup, moved back home, and was beginning to set out on my traveling journey. I was back in my hometown, living again with my parents. It had been a year since I had moved out. I had lost two jobs, dropped out of university, and had broken up with my partner for the last time. I was in rough shape—but it was about to get a lot worse.

A spark was about to be ignited within my family that escalated beyond all proportion. The police got involved, and without a doubt, drove a wedge into the family that will never heal. It’s taken a long time to even understand what exactly happened. But I think in hindsight, it boils down to a fundamental difference in how we view problems. The specifics don’t really matter—just that this is what was happening before I decided to move my life up to New York City.

For my entire childhood, I had always fantasized about New York in my mind. I recall a scene in a children’s movie showing the skyscrapers, the lights, the busy streets. As a result, I had always felt that somehow it was my calling to go there. As I grew up, I watched dozens of movies depicting life in NYC. I loved the idea of being in the “happening” place in the world—the idea that a dreamer could bring their ideas to life here. It was a fantasy, really, and somehow there was this inner force pushing me toward it.

Embarrassingly (but important for context), I was also very much sucked into the world of “sigma masculinity.” My Instagram reel was filled with content promoting the gym, wealth-building, mental fortitude… pretty much the “Batman” vibe. A lot had already happened before this that contributed to my depression. In hindsight, it’s very clear how I fell into that state of mind—a mindset that I would carry forward into this next chapter of my life.

Also important to keep in mind: I had taken out student loans and lost two jobs in the year leading up to this point. As a result, I had gone into quite a lot of debt just covering my life expenses. I was not in good financial shape. However, I refused to let that factor dictate my life. I always believed that somewhere down the road—soon—with enough persistence, I’d resolve the issue. This tied heavily into the “Batman” mindset I was in.

At this point, I had already begun my transformation into the nomad I am today. I decided that the material things in my life were only a hindrance to my dreams. The straw that broke the camel’s back in my relationship at the time was that I wanted to travel more than anything else—and my partner simply didn’t. After I broke up with her, I started taking on house-sitting jobs. I traveled to Baltimore, D.C., Philadelphia, Boston, Chicago, and Los Angeles.

It was in L.A., while sitting on a sofa, that the idea popped into my mind: I had to go to NYC afterward. So I decided, right then and there, that I had to do it. I booked an Airbnb, and immediately upon landing, I drove from D.C. up to Jersey City. I walked the city for hours, until my feet were covered in blisters. I was 100% drunk on the fantasy of it all when I decided that I had to move here.

This cocktail of life events, fantasy, and inspiration is what led me to New York City.

Sounds like a disaster, right?

You’d be right…

New York City

It didn’t take long for me to find a place to rent near the Big Apple. It was relatively cheap and very close to the city. I pulled the trigger and packed my car with everything I owned (which wasn’t much at this point, having sold so much off in the name of mobility). Early in the morning on June 5th, 2023, I left everything I had known and dove headfirst into this fantasy with no plan, no money, no friends or family—only the hope that I could make it, if I worked hard enough… which is exactly what I planned to do.

The first few weeks were pretty great. I signed up for a gym, got into good shape, explored much of the city, and built a little home for myself. My flat was in Jersey City, just across the water from Manhattan. It was about a 20-minute walk to Liberty State Park, where I could get incredible views of the city skyline. The air in the city was thick with hustle culture. It felt like everyone had the same state of mind as me: “work hard, and anything is possible.”

My goals from there were to use New York as a sort of base of operations. My hope was to find a remote IT job that allowed me to work from home while I took house-sitting jobs that gave me opportunities to travel abroad, make some friends, and maybe find my life partner here. In my mind, it all seemed like a piece of cake, given the amount of opportunity I had at my fingertips now.

I took another house-sitting job in San Francisco a few weeks after moving here. Maybe I’ll write about all of those adventures another time. But for now, it was a great trip, and upon arriving back, I had one more chore to take care of. One of the key reasons I wanted to move to the city was so that I could rely on public transportation to get around instead of having to depend on a car. A car had been a key component in my life prior to this—it was a status symbol, it meant freedom, the ability to go anywhere I wanted, whenever I wanted. My first job earned me the cash to buy one, and from there I worked very hard to be able to buy a brand-new one when my first one broke down. I traveled a lot of miles in that car and had formed a pretty deep attachment to him as a result of how hard I had worked to earn him—and of course, the countless memories I had created with him along the road. It was a very hard decision to sell my car, but I cleaned him out, said my goodbyes, and sold him. I honestly cried quite a bit when I did. That car was my best—and only—friend in many ways. I wanted to make the most of it; the cash I got from him gave me a very necessary cushion to survive. I also used that cash to learn how to day trade in the stock market.

The weeks went on. I continued to explore the city, and my search for a job dragged on for quite some time—much longer than I had hoped or planned for. As it turns out, the tech job market in the U.S.A. was pretty much fucked at this time, and getting a job at all was beginning to look pretty unlikely—much less a remote job that enabled my dreams. I applied for literally hundreds of jobs. I sent maybe a dozen applications daily and scored nothing. It didn’t seem to matter what my résumé said either. At one point, I remember literally just flat-out lying on it to see if that made any difference… nope. I was starting to get a little desperate, as pretty much my entire plan forward hinged on this factor. As millions of Americans do, I even got so desperate as to take a door-to-door sales job—which did not go well at all.

At this point in the story, I’m alone—really alone—running out of money, and desperately looking for a job, friends, and anything that gives me some kind of purpose outside of simply surviving.

Still wanting to travel, and believing that things would somehow work out in the end, I took another house-sitting job—this time in the U.K., just outside of London. It was a much-needed vacation from the stress and anxiety I was beginning to fall into back in the States. I recall writing in my journal that my experience in the U.K. showed me that an entire world exists outside of the U.S.A. A silly statement, of course—but from my young and inexperienced perspective, it was a big deal.

Somehow, after that trip, I just knew that my destiny would eventually lead me out of the U.S.A…

Which, in the end, it did.

Breaking Point

Shortly after arriving back from London, I met someone online who I’d end up going out with. For context, my dating life had always been a world full of stress and constant disappointment. I grew to despise the dating app world, as it was a never-ending series of profiles that showed zero effort—or were clearly just women looking to hook up, which was never my priority.

This woman, however, was something unique. After so much disappointment in everything so far, I clung hard to the hope that somehow this would work in my favor…

Of course, it didn’t work out well.

So much had gone horribly wrong at this point—this woman, my family, my NYC dream, my finances. I was starting to fall into the darkest pit of hell I would ever come to know. My eye was literally twitching constantly from the insane amount of stress and anxiety I was dealing with every day. I was desperate—literally beginning to visit churches and write Bible verses in my journal, in search of light in this darkness.

Here… I would come up with an idea.

This idea… this idea is too much to fully outline here. It’s an idea that, even to this day, I still believe in. An idea that I believed—and still believe—could be big. An idea that completely consumed me after it was born in my mind. An idea forged by fire, and in every way a reflection of what I hold deep in my heart. An idea that, if the universe dictates it as my destiny, I will continue to pursue.

But that’s a Story for another day.

I’m pretty sure I went completely—dead serious—insane at this point. All the pressure that had led me here forged this idea in my mind. It took over completely and sent me into a period of my life that, likely for the rest of my life, I’ll play back in my mind, trying to make sense of everything I was thinking and how it all unfolded.

For the next few weeks, it felt like a movie. I raced around doing everything I possibly could to bring this idea to life. I pitched it to dozens of people across the city—to investors, banks, lawyers, other startup founders, and anyone else who would listen. I was on the rooftops of New York City and Washington D.C., living a fever dream.

I really wasn’t well during all of this. I think, more than anything else, the main source of my energy was anxiety. Looking back, it’s scary how crazy I had become. Without a doubt, I think I would’ve been committed if anyone had formally examined me during that time.

This went on for maybe two months before the pressure grew too heavy to handle. I was beyond broke and completely mentally broken from everything that had happened over the past year. Things with my family had grown even worse, and I was beginning to feel seriously suicidal. I had never felt more alone in my entire life.

Now both of my eyes were twitching from the overwhelming amount of stress and anxiety I was holding onto. I developed a pressure and pain in my chest, and I lost a lot of weight because I could barely afford food anymore. I had grown so desperate for work that I ended up taking a job at a grocery store—just to be able to feed myself and pay rent.

It came at just the right time. Maybe a few weeks later, and I wouldn’t have been able to do either. I was right on the edge of homelessness in the dead of winter.

So thank God for that opportunity.

For the next several months, I barely held on. My job earned me just enough to pay rent and buy some food. The commute was long, and through the winter months, I walked for hours daily through the bitter cold—just to survive. I vividly recall the memories of sitting on the light rail with the view of Manhattan in the distance, listening to my music, probably holding back tears, and asking myself how things had gone so wrong.

Of course, in hindsight, I can see the trail of events that led to all of this. I was young, naïve, reckless, and a mess heading into this entire chapter in the first place. My “Batman” mindset was armor I used to suppress the pain I was holding onto inside. That pain eventually grew until it drove me completely insane—and in that insanity, I had an idea. An idea I believed in. An idea I thought would end my suffering.

(Unlikely—but I had to hold onto what little hope I had.)

I needed to break the cycle. My existence felt completely pointless: stocking shelves just so I could pay for a prison cell to sleep in. At some point, I realized I had nothing left to lose.

So, like Christopher McCandless, I decided I would set out to begin a new life—a life completely divorced from this hell.

I did some digging and eventually found an opportunity in Germany. I sold what little I had left so I could buy a one-way plane ticket out of the United States. I packed my bags and flew out, with no plans of returning anytime soon.

Thoughts

Like I wrote at the beginning: “That which does not kill you makes you stronger.” Having gone through all of this, I’m glad I did in the end. If I hadn’t, I likely never would have had the courage to take the leap of faith that got me to where I am today.

My summer in Germany proved to be the best period of my life and eventually led me to meet my life partner. It taught me how to survive when everything felt completely hopeless—and gave me incredible mental fortitude as a result.

Honestly, very little scares me after all of this—and in my eyes now, that’s a gift.

So, looking back at my younger self, I was right. Somehow, it was my destiny to come to New York. It was necessary in the end…

Curious to return someday. Curious who I’ll be when I do…