Little Fish, Big City
Life as a Tadpole: Crying in My 70-Square-Foot Apartment
I love watching movies. Good ones, bad ones, funny ones, sad ones. I love them all. I love them for entertainment when I need a dopamine hit. I love them in the background while I’m doing laundry. I love rewatching old ones for nostalgia. And I love the ones that critique the world and make you think, so that I can text all of my friends about it and feel like I learned something.
The other night, I was watching what I would categorize as A Movie I Would Watch With My Mom, alone in my new apartment: The Map That Leads To You. A new-age romance with two young, popular heartthrobs that ends in tragedy. I didn’t expect much from this movie—besides hot actors—but I ended up spiraling. The movie follows a young girl starting her new life in New York. She’s organized, likes to make plans, and is single (all very resonant to me). She takes an amazing trip to Europe with her two best friends (my dream, cute) and obviously, meets the love of her life. This inevitably leads to her wanting to change her whole life, run away from her boring job, yada, yada, yada.
This story is not unique, and it’s actually a story I usually enjoy. But this time it sent me spam-texting my best friend, questioning my life’s purpose, and crying in my 70-square-foot New York apartment.
My entire life, I’ve been passionate, driven, and ambitious. I’ve never cared about people’s opinions when it came to my goals, and I’ve never been afraid to chase my dreams. Less than a month ago, I followed one of my biggest: moving to New York City. But now it feels like I ran out. There are no paths left to follow. Hell, I don’t even know why I’m on this one. All I remember is being motivated and excited and booking my flight, and poof—I’m here.
My dreams have shifted constantly over the years. As a kid, I just wanted to grow up. I had no real aspirations until I started dancing. From there, I followed the classic pipeline: wanting to be a ballerina princess, then a professional dancer/choreographer, then realizing I could never make it, and finally wanting to become a dance teacher and own a studio.
When applying to colleges, I knew I would keep dancing, but I wanted to study something else. I wanted to see the world, study abroad, and explore new subjects. I landed on International Studies, which I unexpectedly became infatuated with. Not only did I study and volunteer abroad, but I met amazing people, tried amazing food, and learned more about the world than I could have ever anticipated.
That led me down the dreaded path of politics—but it wasn’t dreaded to me. I uncovered so many truths I wanted to dig deeper into, share with others, and use to push progress forward for those who couldn’t. I became so infatuated with school that I ran out of credits and graduated early. For the first time, I was planless. I couldn’t get a job in my field due to lack of experience, and I couldn’t keep studying because I had graduated. So the next logical step felt like graduate school. I ended up admitted to my dream program at NYU. Hence, here I am in New York.
But now that I’m here, it feels like the ink ran dry on the story of my life. The path is unclear. Hopefully, I’ll rediscover that inspiration when classes start and my professors spark new goals and aspirations. But right now? I feel like a tadpole floating in a pond: nothing to do but swim. Everyone around me seems to have a purpose. They wake up, go to work, save up for their dreams, their new homes, their weddings. And I’m just swimming, with no direction, trying not to get eaten. Don’t get me wrong, I love New York, and I do have a reason for being here. But for these past few weeks of summer, I feel lost. For the first time in my life, I feel lost.
In the movie, the main character starts her job in New York after her life-changing trip to Europe, and realizes she doesn’t care about any of it—she was just following her plan. Is that what I’m doing? Am I becoming what I’ve always feared?
A big part of my ambitions has always come from my supportive environment and the fact that I’m single. No one depends on me, and I can do whatever I want. But now I’m at a wall: what do I want? I’ve never had a dream job. I’ve never wanted a long-term partner or cared about starting a family. All I’ve ever wanted was to learn—about myself, about the world. Summer is supposed to be a break from your daily life, but what if you’re already living your dream? Summer has felt like a pause, leaving me with nothing but free time and thoughts. I’ve avoided commitments out of fear of being stuck in one place, and yet here I am, commitmentless and stuck in New York. I want to be here, I know I do. I have a purpose for being here, and yet I still feel like I haven’t grown any legs.
Some of you might be reading this and feeling the same way. Maybe you just moved and haven’t found friends yet. Maybe you’re starting a new chapter—or just closing an old one. And I bet you’re expecting me to have some wise resolution, like in the movies. Well… I don’t. Life isn’t like the movies. Sometimes you have to crash out and re-plan your whole life. Sometimes, you just have to wait to see where life goes. You just have to keep swimming and try not to get eaten, hoping your legs will finally grow.
Being a tadpole isn’t failure; it’s just part of becoming. I’m twenty-two years old. Did you really think I’d have it all figured out?
