Big city people say there's no other way to live. But they're wrong...

Everyone who lives in a big city will tell you there’s no other way to live.

Those people say they’re addicted to the pace of it, the hustle, the bustle, the noise, and the endless possibilities. They resort to evangelical-like ranting and raving in an effort to convert anyone who dares to offer a different opinion. There is an assumption that if you don’t live in the epicentre of 2 million-plus people, you must be a private hermit-type, in a farmhouse 500km from the nearest grocery store.

But there is another life. And it’s equally as good, if not better.

I lived a non-city life for a long time and loved it. I grew up in Canberra (and before you judge) in what I considered ‘suburban bliss’. Most of my friends lived just down the road (in Canberra everything is 15 minutes away max) and there was so much green space. As children, friends and I were always meeting up and going on some sort of  adventure, as if we were in an Enid Blyton novel – or so we liked to pretend.

We played a lot of sport and the idyllic fairytale tree climbing and dirt cake baking was actually how our days played out. As we grew up, our adventures changed but life didn’t really get all that harder. The sport became more competitive, the games more grown up and the bike riding obsession was rapidly taken over by boys.

When we got to an age where we were going to bars and pubs, we didn’t split up or become disparate like big city friendship groups. Possibilities of where to go are minimal in Canberra and so arriving solo never fussed me – chances are you’d find someone you knew, fast.

Mornings after a big night were anything but the hangover hell they show you in the movies. So much fresh air to clear head. Suburban noise consisted of birds, and…well, vacuums. If you heard a screeching car, everyone would run outside to see what type of hooligan was running rampant in their quiet part of the world. Because that was a big event, for real.

It was that quiet, and before you say it, yes, I was that sheltered. But I loved it.

After finishing school, I went to university in Wollongong, an even smaller town on the beach. I studied journalism and fell in love with my work. It was a whirlwind of writing, deadlines and creative energy. All my passions rolled in to one. I knew it was what I wanted to do but the media world is a tough one to break outside the big cities. I knew I would have to move.

So I did. Last month.

And I’ve got mixed feelings about it.

I’ll admit, cities are fun. Sydney is never dull and never boring. There is always something to do, someone to see, some event to be at, some show or art exhibition to go to, some amazing restaurant you have to try or bar you have to experience.

All of this is wonderful, especially when you’re new and in need of ideas and company. But it’s also completely overwhelming.

Have you ever been stuck in a lift which is over-crowded with people and you are standing in the middle, or been to the shops on Christmas Eve or during the Boxing Day sales? If you know that feeling of suffocating through hoards and crowds of people, then you understand what it feels like for someone who is experiencing living in a city for the first time.

I’m an adrenaline junky, who loves nothing more than the rush of life and I love never having a moment to stop. So I thought I would slip seamlessly in to the big city life.

The thing I didn’t realise – the thing that no one warned me about – is that having so many things to do and so many people to see, can in fact, make you feel like you have nothing to do at all.

Because there’s too much choice, and too many people, and so many places, that it all seems so far away or hard to get to. You no longer feel safe, special, secure and appreciated. You feel like just another sardine jammed into a teeny great big tin.

You have to compete with traffic jams, bus timetables, train platforms and ridiculously expensive parking spaces. On the bus, I feel trapped and dirty and surrounded by people. By the time I get home, all I want to do is wash the bus exhaust off me and sit by myself in silence staring at the wall for a few moments peace.

And to be completely honest, the city at night can be scary.

It is getting easier. Each day it becomes just a little more familiar. I’m lucky enough to be able to walk to my new job, so I only have to catch one bus a day. I’ve discovered great cafes and bars near where I live and have made some amazing friends who don’t seem so distant as they first did.

The big overwhelming city is growing on me. Albeit, very gradually.

How about you, do you prefer the small town or big city life? Have you ever found it hard to fit into a new place after moving?