Rebuilding My NYC Chapter—One Step at a Time
The plan was to return to New York City on Tuesday to move into Broome Street housing at NYU with my new caretaker/helper, Dani. I’d spent the last couple weeks interviewing her and getting to know her, and she felt like the right fit. But my wheels started spinning—literally and mentally. I felt anxious about diving back into the hustle and bustle of NYC, especially since I hadn’t been in that environment since January.
I began to doubt whether I was really ready to make this leap into adulthood on my own. My whole life, I’ve used a wheelchair and have had a small stature, so people often speak to me in a way that feels infantilizing—soft voices, pitying tones, as if I’m still 16-year-old Charley. It messes with your head after a while.
On Tuesday afternoon, I panicked. The emotions—fear, pressure, self-doubt—hit all at once, and I spiraled. I felt sick, both physically and mentally, and ended up in bed, disoriented and drained. My mom came into my room with tears in her eyes and hugged me:
“Charley, I don’t know if we can make this work.”
That moment crushed me. I got out of bed Wednesday morning feeling like I was ready to give up.
But later that afternoon, my mom and I had a real, heart-to-heart conversation. She reminded me: this PR internship is a major opportunity, a huge step forward—and of course it’s scary. It’s my first real “degree-worthy” corporate job, and the transition from the college bubble to the working world is daunting for anyone, let alone someone navigating life with a disability.
She told me, “I’m sorry to strip away some of your independence, but I think we should live together at your grandparents’ place on the Upper East Side for your first week on the job. You need time to breathe, get your footing, and reset.”
We both agreed: I’ve been dreaming of this job for two years—we’re not giving up now.
So we formed a new plan. My mom and I will commute to the office together for the first few days so I can get into a solid routine, feel confident navigating the workplace, and start to see myself as New York City Charley—working, hustling, thriving.
I wanted to move in with Dani right away, launch straight into adulthood like flipping a switch. But I realized I need to slow it down. I’ve got to focus on putting everything I have into my first day at work. Enjoy a walk in Central Park. Meet a family friend for dinner. Rebuild my city life with more intention, laying a stronger foundation than I had in college—one that sets me up for a long-term, healthy, sustainable life in NYC.
It wasn’t just that Tuesday was a difficult moment. It was also emotionally complicated—for me and for my mom. She’s been my biggest advocate and protector, but this transition is hard for her too. It’s natural for any parent to struggle when their kid starts gearing up to leave home, and even more so when your child faces additional challenges.
But by Thursday, I was already finding my footing again. That’s the day I participated in an incredible confidence-building experience in New York City with the podcast Unshyness. A few months ago, my sister sent me the host’s program and Instagram, and we’d connected. He reached out to record a one-on-one session—and the timing couldn’t have been better.
We met at Starbucks in Penn Station with his cameraman and walked a one-mile loop around the station and Madison Square Garden. He had me do social confidence exercises—approaching three strangers and asking questions like, “Can you share a secret with me?” or “If you had hours in the day to do anything, what would you do?” A construction worker laughed and shouted, “Sleep!”
It was all about embracing the awkwardness, rejection, or connection that might come. One woman at Starbucks smiled when I told her she was gorgeous and asked what she did for a living. She said, “Thank you! I’m actually just a mom with my daughters.” We cracked up—not quite my age range for a date, but hey, it was a confidence booster and a great memory.
That afternoon gave me a real taste of what I want this NYC chapter to be—spontaneous, social, a little bold, and full of human connection. It reminded me how much I love striking up conversations. Whether it’s commuting to work, grabbing coffee, or taking a walk in the park—there are interesting people everywhere. You might get rejected, but in a city this big, you move on and try again.
It was exactly what I needed to remember who I am—not the guy stuck in limbo, struggling through post-college uncertainty—but Charley, a curious, driven adult who wants to build a real, thriving life in New York.
I’m pumped for this next chapter, but I’m taking it slow. I’m no longer the guy handing out chocolate samples at Whole Foods and ducking out early to zone out. I’m Charley, Healthcare PR Intern. I’m ready to work 9-to-5, hustle, ask questions, establish healthy habits, and build new, sustainable friendships outside of work.
I so badly wanted this to be a linear journey. But it’s not—and that’s okay. Life has curves and turns. It’s how you bounce back that matters. Crush the internship. Take the walk. Enjoy the coffee. Start conversations with new people. Who knows—maybe I’ll even land a few dates with women in their 20s this time, not 50s like the Starbucks mom (no offense, she was lovely).
Oh—and on Thursday, I also heard from HR at Porter Novelli. They sent a rundown of all the accessible accommodations they’ve arranged: a handicap-accessible door is being installed, and they’ve mapped out the most accessible bathrooms in the office. That made my confidence soar. No employer has ever gone this extra mile to make sure things aren’t just doable—but ideal for my needs.
So here’s where we’re at: I’ve got an accessible internship, real support, an amazing caretaker, and a killer smile. I can do this.
If you're in the city this summer and want to talk about life, hardship, career—or even take my hot wheels out for a date—reach out. I want to connect with the world in ways I didn’t before. I’ve got my childhood best friends, sure—but I’m ready to meet new people, build new friendships, and be the social creature I’ve always been.
One day at a time.
And when I’m ready—really ready—my boxes are still packed in the car, and my mattress is sitting in the mudroom. Waiting for me.
