It’s snowing as I write this. Real, steady snow — not the kind that melts the second it hits the ground. I knew this would happen eventually, of course.
When I moved to Buffalo in August, everyone warned me about the winters. You’ll see, they said with a knowing smile, equal parts pride and sympathy.
But as the flakes collect on the windowsill, I can’t help but feel like this is exactly what I came here for.
After more than twenty years in the South, I wanted change — in every sense of the word. I wanted to find a place that was more affordable, that offered a slower pace and a different culture.
I wanted seasons again. I wanted to walk. I wanted to live in a city with values that matched my own, one where I could see progressive policies actually at work — in its public transportation, its libraries, its community programs. Buffalo checked all those boxes, and then some.
When I found my apartment, I hoped it would be enough. What I didn’t expect was to love it. The location couldn’t be better: right in the heart of the city, surrounded by coffee shops, bars, and the hum of daily life.
My view still makes me stop and stare sometimes. It’s funny to think that two of the other apartments I almost chose would have overlooked parking lots. Truly. Parking lots. I’m glad I trusted my gut.
One of the biggest changes I made was giving up my car — something I never imagined doing before this move. In the South, not driving isn’t really an option.
But here, I’ve been walking everywhere, and it’s changed the way I experience the city. I notice more — the way the light hits the buildings in the morning, the smell of laundry from a nearby hotel, the people I pass on my route to the deli or the farmers market each week.
Walking saves money, sure, but it also gives me a sense of independence. It makes me feel part of Buffalo, instead of just passing through it.
I’m still getting settled, still learning the rhythms of this place, but I already have a few favorite spots — a bar where I watch the Bills play (and yes, I’m learning what Bills Mafia means), a café with the best taco salad every Thursday, and the farmers market I never miss.
Those small rituals make the city feel less like somewhere I moved to and more like somewhere I belong.
What’s gone well? A lot. My apartment feels like home. The people here are kind, in that unspoken “City of Good Neighbors” way that Buffalo is known for. And, most days, I feel safe — something I don’t take for granted.
What’s been harder is the noise. Downtown living means traffic, sirens, late-night chatter. Kitty Blanche, my cat, wasn’t prepared for that either. It’s taken some trial and error (and a few strategically placed fans) to make her feel calm again.
I also imagined there’d be more of a community feel inside my building. When I toured it, the management team talked up their tenant events and ways to meet people — none of which have happened. Meeting people as an adult is hard anywhere, but Buffalo has a reputation for being especially close-knit, the kind of place where people stick with their high school friends forever.
Still, I’m hopeful.
There’s something about this city that makes you want to dig in — to show up, even when it’s uncomfortable. I’ve already gone to a charity event for the library, and I’ve started contributing groceries to a community fridge near my apartment. It feels good to put something back into the place that’s giving me this new chapter.
And now, winter is here — my first one in twenty years that doesn’t involve humidity and mosquitoes. I know it will be cold, but I’m preparing the best I can. I have my heated mattress pad, a shelf full of books, and a growing list of cozy things to do: cook dinner, watch a show, try new recipes, maybe even pull out my Christmas lights early.
I can already picture myself walking to one of the nearby ice rinks, a hot toddy in hand, or bundled up at the Bills game I have tickets for next month.
It’s only been ninety days, but Buffalo already feels like a place that fits. I didn’t move here to reinvent myself — I just wanted a life that felt fuller, simpler, more grounded. And while I’m still figuring it all out, I think that’s what I’ve found.
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