Out of my close friends from school, I was the only one who did not live in Manhattan. I started my first day knowing one person who I trusted. Over the course of the four years, that number grew. My friends acted as family to me. I was constantly at their houses in between classes, for dinner after school or stayed over on the weekends. The doorman in in my friend Stephanie’s building knows me from going in and out of her apartment so much he does not even make me sign in. I have a toothbrush designated for me at most of their apartments and have probably slept in their beds the same amount I sleep in my own. Not once have they complained or said no to me. Their friendship and support was worth the inconvenience. I have become close with their parents and babysitters as well as their siblings. Although being in their homes should have made me feel as if I was not in my own, I felt completely at home. I can say every one of their addresses just as fast as my own. My friends, or city family, made my adjustment easier than I could have imagined by making me feel so at home.