The Soundtrack of the Year I Changed Cities
The year I changed cities didn’t feel exciting at first.
It felt unsettled. New streets, unfamiliar sounds, routines that hadn’t formed yet. Everything worked, technically—but nothing felt like it belonged to me.
That year, music became a kind of map.
Certain songs marked different phases: long walks with no destination, late nights unpacking boxes, quiet mornings when the city still felt distant. I didn’t choose the songs intentionally—they just stayed.
Music helped soften the in-between moments.
When you change cities, there’s a constant sense of being slightly out of place. Familiar songs create a small sense of order when everything else feels temporary.
Over time, those tracks stopped reminding me of where I came from and started anchoring me where I was. They didn’t make the new city feel like home right away—but they made it feel survivable.
I also noticed how a few objects took on more meaning during that year.
Not things meant to decorate a space, but things that carried continuity. I kept small reminders tied to music that made new places feel familiar, not as décor, but as something steady in a year full of movement.
By the end of that year, the city no longer felt new.
The songs didn’t feel transitional anymore either. They became part of everyday life—no longer a soundtrack for change, but for staying.
Sometimes, that’s how you know you’ve arrived.