The Real Island of Misfit Toys

I’ve had a lot of visits to this post lately, which I did back in February. I think it’s likely due to a happy accident of people searching for the famous place out of the seasonal movie Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, but I figured, let me throw it out there again anyway…



I think of Manhattan island as the real island of misfit toys. It’s a place where not being in the mainstream sort of is the mainstream. I guess I can only offer my own perspective on things. So here goes some gratuitous over sharing:

As a 38 year old professional woman who is still thus far childless, one of the many reasons I prefer to pay the sky high cost of living to stay here in NYC, is because I somehow feel less infertile here (though clearly not entirely less so). Most of my friends and family members have their own children by now and many have moved out to the suburbs. Not always, but sometimes conversations and get-togethers can feel a bit awkward because of the kid stuff. They’ll all want to talk about little Johnnie’s big play at the soccer game or how many hours their child labor…

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