26

Today is my 26th birthday, an unremarkable semiprime number (except that it’s the only one sandwiched between a square and a cube), and it brings with it the last of my legal ties to my parents (look Mom, I have my own health insurance now!). It’s also been exactly three years since I moved to New York City; I serendipitously arrived on my 23rd birthday. I still remember the alarming heat from that day, and my partner, parents, and friends helping me carry boxes of books up four flights of stairs. I remember the relentless optimism I had for what my future here would hold, and the undying belief that I was going to carve out a life here and use the city as a vehicle for growth. Three years later, I think most of that is true.

For those who are new here, this is my third post of this format, where I come to the same place every year to reflect on the last 12 months. I’m sitting in my usual spot, but it has a different name.

Stella and Fly, my former favorite coffee shop in New York, closed unexpectedly back in January. Years of hot lattes and learning the names of the baristas were suddenly gone, and originally I was gutted. It felt like losing a friend. So in April, when the space reopened as ~ Bar Andiamo ~, I had to stop in to see what became of my safe house. It far exceeded my expectations. I now know the names of the new baristas (many thanks to Sam for the amazing homemade syrups!) and try to come here just as often as I used to. I can recognize the differences between what this place was a year ago and what it is today, without losing my reverence for what it means to me.

The highs of 25 were very high. I started at Handshake AI and worked alongside my childhood best friend, then saw him get married in Lisbon a week after attending my first developer conference in Amsterdam. Along with some very capable teammates, I won a few bar trivia nights. I went to my first Ren Faire, saw Porter Robinson and Madeon perform Shelter live, learned how to ski, and moved into a nice new apartment on the Upper East Side. I played more tennis this year than probably every NYC year combined, made some new friends, and didn’t get sick ONCE last winter, a personal record.

On paper, we had a pretty good run. Off paper, there were lows too, most of which aren’t worth writing about here. Anxiety is still something I live with, and I’m learning how to manage it. But the most important thing 25 taught me isn’t on either list. The last year has felt, in many ways, like I’ve reopened under new management too. I’ve worked harder than I ever have across my day job and side projects. I’ve also made more mistakes than ever, and they continue to teach me important lessons.

When I step into Andiamo, I recognize a few familiar patches of paint along the wall, proof that a previous life I fondly remember was lived here. And yet the room is arranged differently, and the menu is different. Not strictly better or worse, but different. When I step inside my own life, I see the same artifacts of a life well lived, and a life whose furniture isn’t all in the same place anymore.

Last year, I was feeling particularly optimistic about second chances:

You don’t just get a few cups of coffee in life. You always have the option to make another one.

I still think this is true. I also now see that making another cup of coffee doesn’t nullify the first, and changing management doesn’t automatically earn Andiamo back into my morning routine just because it’s semi-convenient for me to walk to. It’s the vibe I get when I come into the new spot, coupled with the history that it inherited for me, that now makes it feel so special. The maintenance that life demands is rarely simple, and storefronts in New York are always turning into places that we’d no longer step into. It’s important not to take this personally (bodegas, like personalities, are always going under new management) and to model our own lives such that we can grow into people others still choose to come back to, even as we change.

26 is going to be full of hard work, exciting decisions, crazy advancements in technology and AI, and lots more blog posts. I really can’t wait. A lot of my time will be spent cultivating the same relentless optimism I had when I first moved here. That, and learning to be brave, to weather the storm of life in a way that doesn’t let the people I love down.