There’s something romantic about the idea of setting off in search of a place to call home. No set destination, no real plan—just the open road, curiosity, and a desire to find your place. That’s exactly what I did. Over the course of nearly a year, I lived in five different cities across the United States. From coastal towns to bustling metros, I tested neighborhoods like someone trying on shoes, looking for the perfect fit.
It wasn’t easy. At times, it was emotionally exhausting and financially challenging. Some cities surprised me in the best ways, while others left me disheartened. But after months of wandering and a handful of letdowns, I think I’ve finally found my dream home. Here’s what that journey looked like—and what I learned along the way.
Starting in New York City: The Dream That Didn’t Fit
I began in New York City—the city that had long lived rent-free in my imagination. I had visited a dozen times, enchanted by its energy, skyline, and culture. But living there was a different story.
I rented a tiny studio apartment in Brooklyn and tried to settle in. While I loved the accessibility, food, and vibrancy, I quickly realized the city never stopped. The constant noise, the crowds, the cost—it wore me down faster than I expected. I found myself craving quiet moments that simply didn’t exist there.
After three months, I knew NYC wasn’t my forever place. It taught me a valuable lesson: just because you love to visit a city doesn’t mean you’ll love to live there.
Next Stop: Austin, Texas—Laid-Back Vibes, But Not the Right Pace
Austin had a strong reputation as a vibrant, welcoming city with an artistic soul. I stayed in South Congress and gave myself a few months to see how it felt. I adored the food trucks, the live music scene, and the friendly strangers who made eye contact in coffee shops.
But I also struggled with the heat and car-dependency. The city had grown quickly, and you could feel the pressure on its infrastructure. While Austin had charm, it didn’t quite match my tempo. I liked the energy, but I didn’t feel rooted.
Then Came Denver, Colorado—Close, But Still Not Quite Home
I spent late spring and early summer in Denver, drawn by the mountains and clean air. I stayed in a walkable neighborhood and spent weekends hiking, biking, and even learning to rock climb.
There was so much to love—especially for someone who appreciates nature—but there was also a subtle sense of disconnection. Denver was beautiful, but I didn’t find the kind of community I craved. It felt like a place where people came to escape, not necessarily to build.
I left with a deep respect for the lifestyle but an understanding that scenery alone wasn’t enough.
Chicago, Illinois—A Surprise Favorite That Almost Won Me Over
By the time I reached Chicago, I was fatigued. I didn’t expect to fall for it, but Chicago surprised me. It had history, incredible food, an arts scene, and neighborhoods that each felt like their own city.
I found a short-term rental in Lincoln Park and genuinely enjoyed my days there. I explored the lakefront trail, attended free concerts in the park, and met neighbors who invited me to dinner. For the first time, I felt a strong sense of belonging.
But winters worried me. I got a taste of the cold in November, and it gave me pause. I could picture myself in Chicago, but I wasn’t sure I could thrive there year-round. I promised myself I’d return—but maybe not to settle permanently.
And Then—Savannah, Georgia. A City That Just Felt Right
I landed in Savannah almost by accident. I had planned to check out Charleston but rerouted at the last minute based on a friend’s recommendation. I booked a short stay—and ended up extending it four times.
Savannah was unlike anywhere else I’d lived. It was slow, soulful, and stunning. The moss-draped oaks, historic architecture, and cobblestone squares made the city feel timeless. But it wasn’t just the aesthetics that hooked me—it was the pace, the community, the genuine warmth.
People talked to each other on porches. Farmers’ markets felt like reunions. The ocean was close enough to be part of daily life, and the cost of living was shockingly reasonable compared to the other cities I’d visited.
By the end of the second month, I was waking up happy every day—something I hadn’t felt consistently in other places. That’s when I knew: Savannah was home.
Lessons from the Journey: What It Really Means to Find “Home”
After living in five cities and absorbing their rhythms, cultures, and quirks, I realized that finding a dream home isn’t about perfection. It’s about alignment.
New York dazzled, but I never exhaled. Austin charmed, but didn’t challenge me. Denver inspired, but left me longing. Chicago connected, but required compromise. Savannah? It didn’t try to be anything other than what it was—and that’s what made it work.
Through this journey, I learned to listen to how a place made me feel on ordinary days—not just how it photographed or ranked on travel blogs. I paid attention to the details: how easy it was to build routine, how welcomed I felt, how I responded to the pace.
And most of all, I learned to trust my gut. Because no matter how many stats you research or lists you make, you can’t measure the emotional pull of a place—you have to feel it.
My Dream Home Wasn’t Where I Expected—But It Was Worth the Wait
Today, I’m settled in a cozy house on a quiet street in Savannah. My neighbors wave. My dog knows every block. I sip coffee on my porch in the mornings and walk to the river in the evenings. Life is slower here, but fuller.
Finding my dream home wasn’t about one big moment. It was about a series of little ones—a deep breath, a kind stranger, a sense of peace. And while the road here was long, it taught me everything I needed to know about what truly matters.
So if you’re searching, don’t be afraid to explore. Give yourself permission to try things on. You might not find your dream home right away—but when you do, you’ll know.
