moving to new york city

Almost ten years ago, my sweet mom brought me to New York City for my 13^th birthday. Twas a weekend of sightseeing and girl time, complete with strolls in Central Park, a Broadway show, high tea at the Plaza Hotel, cheese cake at midnight in the theater district, walking and walking along the avenues filled with unmatched energy and thrill. We oohed and aahed as buildings flew before our eyes from the back of a yellow taxi losing itself in a tangle of streets.

I had been to the city times before, and have been since, but this visit was especially precious- holding a special place in the marrow of my memory and heart. I distinctly remember thinking for the first time, “I could see myself here.” We walked by the United Nations headquarters, and I impulsively (resolvedly) said: “I’m going to work there one day.”

Whether this was wishful thinking or a visceral feeling, I guess you may decide. Regardless, this dream swiftly became an obsession- translating itself into a Manhattan-themed bedroom (with a large map, posters, skyline lamp shade), the perennial watching of movies set in New York (When Harry met Sally, The Proposal, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Enchanted, West Side Story, You’ve Got Mail come to mind…) and a go at model-UN during which a love for international development and social justice was ignited. With time, however, I assumed this idea of living in New York City was childish, and an unrealistic aspiration.

A few months ago, I was roaming the sea of internship opportunities posted online, praying for guidance about what my Summer should look like and how to commence my post-graduation career. There was so much uncertainty and fear, endless questions and little ideas. And then- I fell upon a Communications and Knowledge Management internship position at UN-Women’s Fund for Gender Equality, at its New York Headquarters. I assiduously read the entire job posting from beginning to end, filled with a sense of longing and familiarity. The best way to describe it: I felt as though it was written for me. Yet I began convincing myself of how irrational I was being. There was no way I could possibly do this- let alone be offered this position. My family, optimist to its core, urged me to apply nonetheless (what did I have to lose, anyway?)- which I did.

A couple days later, an interview befell. The next day, a job offer. Soon thereafter, I accepted.

A veritable whirlwind (a veritable dream).

So, as many of you may have heard in past months, I am indeed packing my bags and heading to New York City in June- for a six-month internship at UN-Women. Thoughts and ideas twirl in my mind as I contemplate the things I want to learn, do and see as a momentary New Yorker and as an intern (absorbing how to practically apply the past few years of knowledge and theory in the real world).

I can’t help but ponder the miracle of it all- namely the odds of me falling upon this position (just days before the deadline) and many other peculiar occurrences in the application process which led to this outcome. And while I don’t want to trivialize the role of contiguous factors such as years of hard work and non-profit experience (matched with privilege, I reckon) resulting in this internship position, I do believe this is primarily the result of divine orchestration – and the whole of my community being so vigilant in praying for me throughout this rapid turn of events.

I think back to the dreaming thirteen-year-old girl roaming the streets of Manhattan and learning about the United Nations in wonder and enchantment. For a myriad of reasons (lacking confidence, expectations and pressures set on women, massive life changes, a necessary streak of pragmatism, etc. etc.), she would come to dismiss her dreams- deeming them invalid and naïve.

Her God though, did not. He heard and saw her hopes, and made the seemingly impossible happen so she could watch them unfold. 

I am the first to acknowledge that putting our hope in dreams can be harmful. Dreams can so quickly become idols, stripping us from the heart and will of God, launching us into a downward spiral of pride, self-interest and ungratefulness.

But sometimes, we ought to take a step back and stand in awe at how God’s hand weaves all the pieces of a story together over time. How interests and ambitions and reveries flickering in one’s youth can lead to a reality, just a decade later. How He begins preparing our hearts early on, so we can step into our callings later. How He hears prayers, uses our particular set of gifts and longings to guide us, His people. How He delights in our joy.

For now, I am counting down the months and weeks and days until I move to the city of dreams to live out one of mine. I am holding my Montreal tribe close to my heart, savoring moments with them and taking mental snapshots of it all - recognizing how much I will miss my village.

I just came back from a trip to New York and Boston with my mother and sister (which I will write about shortly) and came back feeling utterly charmed and encouraged (and humbled, nervous, overwhelmed too!). But, truth be told- I am so excited.

And I am grateful, so grateful. I was walking to my soon-to-be office last week, whispering prayers of thanks again and again and thinking, “This, this is a lived dream.”