When I left LA for NYC I traded green juice for Coke Zero, matcha for piping hot almond milk lattes, and my perfect ex-boyfriend for the treachery that is dating in your 20s. A month into our breakup with no in-person approaches to count, I quickly lost hope in my vision of falling in love the old fashioned way.
“You have to get back on Hinge,” said my friend from high school. She had sworn off the apps for years until she met her now man—27, gorgeous, rich. “He runs the marathon! Come on Maija, just re-download it.” (P.S. They’re now exclusive).
“This is what adults in the city do when they’re not busy on a Thursday night,” said my therapist during one of our sessions early this fall. I had arrived straight from seminar to her office in a disgruntled flurry. “It’s just another way of opening yourself up to the opportunity of meeting new people,” she said.
I was subsequently convinced. “This is just what New Yorkers do,” I told myself. “We” don’t have time for a morning green juice, let…
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