Can a City Change Who You Are?

Since I graduated in 2020, I have lived in a different place every single year. From Arkansas, I moved to San Diego for a very non-traditional American gap year to learn how to surf and embrace the West Coast. After a wild and chaotic year in San Diego, I moved across the world to Glasgow, Scotland, to pursue an MSc in Science. After a year in Glasgow, my ambition took me south to London, England. Though it was only a brief time, it left an imprint on my life that I knew I would return to. After London, I landed a job in Boston, Massachusetts, and made some of the most incredible friendships I desperately needed at that point in my life. After a year in Boston, I moved back to Arkansas briefly before landing a job that would eventually transport me back to London. My twenties have been enriched by the memories and the spaces I’ve been able to explore and call my own, despite being away from where I grew up.

These cities have shaped and changed the person I am and that I am still growing up to be. They’ve taught me what I want and don’t want in life, and unlocked parts of myself that revealed themselves in each new city. The architecture of these cities holds the emotional choreography of my life and keeps watch over the memories that carried me through those periods. When I reflect on stills of those moments, I’m reminded how special those chapters were, even when I didn’t fully appreciate or recognize them in the moment. These cities have gradually informed the creative direction I now see my life bending toward. In the nostalgic layers of my life, these integral places have willingly kept my memories safe and, unbeknownst to me, shaped the person I am growing into.

San Diego is marked by days spent on the beach, basking in the sun, or walking along the water where the waves kiss the dry sand. It was the first big city where I realized the natural (or unnatural) divisions created by neighborhoods, each reflecting the cultures and people who lived there. Exploring the variety of cuisine and distinct neighborhoods was a gift I carried forward from that moment. I was a fairly reserved person in college compared to my peers, and something about San Diego absolutely unlocked the freak in me. From the neighborhoods of South Park, to the streets of Pacific Beach, San Diego allowed me the freedom to test boundaries I hadn’t explored before. Those stories, I’m afraid, are too precious to be read. They are to be shared over an intimate dinner and endless amounts of delicious wine.

When I think of Glasgow, I think of pups running free in lush green parks, the smell of fresh rain, and gothic architecture that felt cozy and edgy all at once. I think about how special it was to earn a degree from the 4th oldest English-speaking university in the world. I remember hours spent in the Highlands and the sacred memories those hills hold for me. Glasgow is also where I fell in love, and trust me, the streets of Glasgow have witnessed how exhilarating, nuanced, terrifying, and heartbreaking that experience was. I’ve since visited Glasgow, now that love has faded, and the city has held onto all the good bits of that love, keeping them safe in my absence.

Reflecting on my first time living in London, I remember how massive and daunting the city felt, and how unsure I was that it could carry me into my next chapter. I began exploring one neighborhood at a time, discovering the city’s history down every winding alleyway and in every stale beer-smelling pub. God, I love a good “pubby pub.” London became my favorite playground to explore alone, to quietly reflect, and to marvel at the intricacies of every building. Thinking back on this era of Cortney in London feels like a mosaic. Though I went through a really hard moment that left me feeling broken and chose to leave, I knew I would return.

Boston held me when I felt “homesick” for the UK. I fear it was only in Boston that I became aware of how architecture could carry the emotional choreography of my life. I navigated cobblestone streets day to day, from searching for the best restaurants in the city, evening walks along the Charles River, catching the sunset. I rarely drove unless I absolutely had to, which was different from anything I’d experienced in the U.S. up to that point. I met my girlfriends at our favorite cocktail bars, sharing martinis and stories of debauchery that shall never be repeated. When I think of Boston, I think of how precious it was to feel wrapped up by the city and held by friendships that started there. Boston healed what was broken in me.

The second time I lived in London, something completely shifted in my nervous system. This overwhelming feeling of finally settling into the place I was meant to be consumed me. I began exploring the city in a way that allowed me to claim it as my own. This era of Cortney in London solidified that I could never call Arkansas home in the same way again. Although completely divergent from Arkansas, London has all the missing ingredients embedded in the city that I need to feel connected and grounded. The richness of life in this city, full of connection, music, diversity, food, and languages, became one I could no longer live without.

While I am aware of the peculiarity of this nomadic life, I’ve come to understand that it is integral to my being. Looking back on the whirlwind of cities and experiences since leaving Arkansas, I can see how each place, no matter how brief the stay, contributed to the person writing this blog. San Diego taught me freedom; Glasgow taught me depth; London taught me independence; Boston taught me the power of healing friendship. From one city to the next, each chapter of my twenties has taught me how to step into myself with curiosity and courage. And as I reflect on it now, I realize that these cities carry pieces of me too. They guard the versions of myself that existed there — the wild, the heartbroken, the inspired, and the endlessly curious — keeping them frozen in time, forever protected within the streets, the architecture, and the memories I made. In a way, I have never truly left them, and they will always be a part of me.