Happy wife, happy life

On cities, geographic claustrophobia, belonging, anonymity, and searching for something outside yourself.

I am not someone who can be happy anywhere. I know this about myself. Though once upon a time I aspired to be, I’m not someone who gasps for air like a dying fish or Fran Lebowitz when more than 100 miles from New York. The last eight years have taught me that I can exist—even thrive—outside of New York. But as much as I have tried to embrace the notion…