Would You Move To A New City To Look For Love? Here's What Happened When I Did
When looking for a relationship it’s less about luck, and more about attitude. (Photo: Courtesy)
It was a scene straight out of a Nicholas Sparks novel: A first date and I were meandering hand-in-hand around the iconic squares of Savannah, Georgia. Our walk followed one of those awesome dates where conversation flows as easily as the drinks and where, by the end of the night, you’re already talking in “we’s”—we need to see that movie, we should go to Florida some weekend.
Moonlight streamed through the heavy Spanish moss above us, and as he turned to me and pushed my hair out of my face, right in front of a couldn’t-be-more-perfectly-placed fountain, I wondered, could this be it?
Our lips touched. I leaned in, allowing my hands to graze his back. Suddenly, he pulled away.
“Your kissing isn’t romantic at all.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You kiss like a Northerner. It’s way too aggressive. Can we try again?”
We did, but the magic was lost. He and I went our separate ways, and as I fell asleep alone, I realized that a new geographic location wouldn’t necessarily make my dating problems disappear.
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I had moved to Savannah the month prior because I’d needed a break from the ultra-competitive world of New York City. Or at least that’s what I told my friends. If I were going to be completely honest, another huge part of the reason I moved was to meet a man. I’d long known the odds weren’t in my favor when it came to dating in New York City—statistics state that the population of NYC is 53 percent female versus 47 percent male, and a 2015 Time Out New York survey gave my city the accolade of “least fulfilling dating scene,” with 45 percent of locals saying they’re sad to be single. Not only that, but in my career focusing on writing about relationships, I’d read and reported on advice from relationship experts who swore that a move—especially to a city where men are more “marriage-minded” (a.k.a. any place where the average age of settling down is lower than that of New York City)—could be the ticket to lasting love.
But for whatever reason, my dating life wasn’t clicking into place the way I wanted it to in Savannah. I was constantly on Tinder and OkCupid, said yes to every invite, and went out at least three times a week. The problem wasn’t a lack of options, or a lack of trying; it was the fact that no one I met felt quite right. I need to be clear: It wasn’t the regional differences, it wasn’t that I was addicted to the type-A personalities I’d met back home, and no, it wasn’t my style of kissing. Mainly, it was me. I missed my friends, my neighborhood, and my favorite coffee shop. I missed delis that were open 24 hours. I even missed taking the subway. Bottom line: I missed New York.
Six months after my move, I came back to Brooklyn for the summer to sublet an apartment from a friend. And weirdly, once I was back in the place I loved, my dating life took off the way I thought it would when I had moved away: I chatted up men in the Apple Store and went on after-yoga juice dates with guys who frequented the same Bikram studio as me. I had hours-long conversations with men I met on Tinder dates and found myself looking forward to first dates again. I had the dating life I wanted, in the place I wanted. Why now?
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“I always say the demographic statistics are ridiculous,” explains Rachel Greenwald, dating coach and author ofHave Him At Hello, when I told her about my recent experiment. “But I do tell women to consider changing their zip code, even if it’s temporarily, or even if it’s simply changing your routine and getting coffee at a different place.” One reason: People tend to be friendly to newcomers. “It’s the welcome wagon dynamic. If you’ve lived in the same place for 10 years, there’s no motivation for the woman down the block to throw a wine and cheese party for you,” explains Greenwald. “But if you just move in, then people want to help you out.”
Second, shaking up your routine gives you so much more incentive to do new things. Down in Savannah, I was much more willing to accept random invites when I had absolutely nothing on my schedule. Book Club? All right. Tuesday-night karaoke? I guess so. Ten-mile hike and a kayak trip? Sure. I may not have met a specific man in any of those cases—in fact, all I ended up getting into was a political disagreement with the women at my book club—but at least I was trying.
And unbeknownst to me, I ended up bringing that let’s-try-anything-once attitude back to New York City. This second time around, I was just as ready to settle down and have a serious relationship. But I also had a lighter feeling about it, like there was no point in strong-arming it; that the right guy would come along if I just kept believing it would happen. It’s the sunny, optimistic, and gag-inducing line every single person has heard, but for the first time, I believed it.
By Anna Davies
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