When I packed up my life and moved to New York City at 22, I thought I was prepared. I watched the movies, I read the guides, and I made sure to wear my most stylish pair of sneakers to navigate the endless concrete jungle. What I didn’t expect? That the real survival tool would be a pencil and a 9×9 grid of numbers.

Let me rewind. I came to New York with a suitcase, a dream, and a vague idea of what I thought would be my survival strategy: hustle, hustle, maybe sleep, then hustle some more. I pictured myself strolling down city streets, mingling with fellow creatives at coffee shops, and maybe—just maybe—spotting a celebrity here or there (you know, the usual NYC fantasies). But in reality, living here is a balancing act of surviving constant noise, dodging crowds, and coping with the overwhelming sense that you’re simultaneously living the dream and drowning in it. You learn quickly that you need outlets to stay sane. And so, I found mine in Sudoku.

I’ll be honest. It didn’t happen overnight. I wasn’t walking through Times Square and suddenly struck by the overwhelming urge to solve math puzzles. But somewhere between the rush of traffic and the sensory overload that is the subway, I discovered that Sudoku is the perfect way to  survive in this city.

Why? Because solving puzzles is a lot easier than figuring out how to pay rent, grocery shop without a car, or any seemingly easy task that is made 100 times harder because it’s New York.

The First Puzzle

Moving to New York is like jumping onto a treadmill set at 10 mph: it’s fast, it’s crowded, and you’re not entirely sure how to keep up. My first few weeks were an absolute blur—new job, new apartment, new every single thing. Amid the chaos, I found myself at a coffee shop, staring at an empty cup of overpriced espresso, when an ad for a Sudoku game popped up on my phone. “Sure, why not?” I thought, thinking I could tackle it in the same way I tackled my new life: one small, manageable step at a time.

Spoiler alert: It didn’t go well. I had no idea what I was doing. But it was oddly calming. In that moment, I wasn’t thinking about rent prices or whether I’d accidentally offended someone with my midwestern politeness. I was thinking about 1s, 3s, and the magical number 9. It was exactly what I needed to survive the day. And just like that, a puzzle obsession was born.

The Subway Revelation

The subway in New York is like a mirror reflection of the city itself: unpredictable, intense, and full of people trying not to make eye contact. But you know what? In those brief moments between stops, when you’re packed in like a sardine and wondering if that’s a glove or a rat on the platform, there’s a weird peace to be found in Sudoku. 

You see, the trick is this: there are only so many things you can control in New York. At least, that’s how I justify losing myself in a 9×9 box while being jostled by a group of tourists with selfie sticks. And somehow, solving puzzles—no matter how trivial—makes me feel like I’ve acomplished something. In a city where control is a mythical concept, Sudoku gives you the illusion of structure. It’s the one place where things always add up. And if there’s anything you need in NYC, it’s stability—even if it’s just in the form of Sudoku. 

The “I’m Definitely a Pro” Phase

After a few weeks, I began to get cocky. “Medium” puzzles? Child’s play. I was conquering the “hard” ones, no problem. I bought a book called Extreme Sudoku Crazy Play. Then I bought two more. My phone had at least five different Sudoku apps, and every new puzzle I completed felt like a tiny, but important, victory in a city that constantly makes you feel like you’re fighting an uphill battle. 

One day after completing a particularly tough puzzle on my phone during a work lunch break, I realized I’d forgotten to actually eat. I had become that person. But I was okay with it. There was no greater joy than the sweet, numbing satisfaction of finishing a perfect puzzle.

The Final Lesson

Alright, I might be exaggerating just a bit (I’ve never skipped lunch in my life). And maybe I’m being dramatic about how tough it is to live here (I’m genuinely the happiest I’ve ever been). But the core lesson remains: New York requires balance. It’s an overstimulating city where everything is moving at lightning speed, and if you’re not careful, it’ll burn you out. But finding those moments of stillness—whether it’s through Sudoku or something else—can be a lifesaver. 

And so here I am, balancing the chaos of New York City with the quiet comfort of a Sudoku puzzle. Just me and my grid of numbers against the world. If that’s not living the dream, I don’t know what is.