There are some hard truths that I didn't quite see clearly until I left.
The city has lost a lot of its character
Trinity Bellwoods Park.
Brittany Barber | Narcity
Maybe I’m just getting old, but to me, it feels like a lot of what I loved about Toronto has disappeared into the ever-growing horizon of blue glass condos, chain stores, and A&Ws. Like, so many Toronto institutions that I held dear to my heart (RIP Honest Ed’s) have been replaced in a way that feels jarring.
It’s not like cities aren’t supposed to change — because of course they are, it’s a part of what makes them so exciting. But Toronto’s change has often felt, at least to me, less like evolution and more like someone hit copy-paste on the same condo, coffee shop, and “elevated casual” restaurant over and over again.
The Toronto I'm so nostalgic for had more quirks. More weird little shops. More grimy venues, ma-and-pop shops, and dive bars. It wasn’t always cute, but it had a vibe. Now, so many parts of the city feel increasingly polished (and again, wildly expensive).
Of course, the beautiful chaos is still there if you know where to look, but it feels a lot less present than it once did, especially looking back on it now that I’ve moved away.
Toronto is expensive in a way that doesn’t add up
When I lived in Toronto, I just sort of accepted the fact that rent was going to be wild. That’s the deal, right? If I’m going to live in Canada’s biggest city, I’m gonna have to pay big-city prices, and develop a casual relationship with financial despair along the way.
But after leaving, I started realizing it wasn’t just that Toronto is expensive. It's that the cost-to-quality ratio often feels super imbalanced. You can pay a shocking amount to live in a tiny apartment with bad insulation, questionable laundry access, and a view of another tiny apartment with bad insulation. Then you leave the house and somehow spend $8 on coffee, $18 on a sad salad and $100 on a quick drink with friends.
I'm not saying Toronto has nothing to offer, because truly, it does. The food scene is incredible, there are a ton of amazing neighbourhoods, and there’s always something going on. But for the price of simply existing there, daily life could feel a little smoother than it does. And leaving made me realize how much I had normalized paying more for less.
The waterfront should be way better than it is
Toronto is literally sitting on a Great Lake, which should make the waterfront one of the city’s best features. And to be fair, parts of it are incredibly beautiful. The Toronto Islands? Magical. A walk by the lake on a sunny day? Gorgeous.
But for a city with that much shoreline, the waterfront can feel underwhelming, too. Too much of it feels disconnected from daily life, like something you visit occasionally instead of something the city is built around. You can be downtown and feel like the lake is hidden behind condos, construction, and highways.
Maybe I’m being harsh, but a city this expensive ought to make its lake access feel like a regular joy, not a bonus feature you have to plan around. Toronto has one of the most obvious natural assets imaginable, and yet so much of the waterfront still feels like it hasn’t reached its full potential.
We romanticize neighbourhoods that are becoming unaffordable to the people who made them cool
Toronto is truly excellent at falling in love with a neighbourhood right around the time the people who gave it character can no longer afford to live there.
In my humble opinion, a place becomes cool because of its artists, immigrants, students, musicians, small businesses, and weird bars. Then the developers come, and suddenly the same neighbourhood is being marketed with words like “vibrant,” “authentic,” and “steps from Toronto’s hottest restaurants,” while the actual people who made it vibrant and authentic are getting priced out.
I’ve personally noticed it in places like Queen West, Parkdale, Leslieville, and Kensington. These Toronto neighbourhoods became desirable because they had a ton of character and grit, not because they had $24 cocktails.
The city is diverse, but not always integrated
Riverdale Park in Toronto.
Toronto’s diversity is one of the best things about it, and I’ll defend that stance forever. The food, languages, neighbourhoods, festivals, businesses, and people are a huge part of what makes Toronto feel as amazing as it does.
But I also think Toronto can sometimes confuse diversity with integration. Yes, people from all over the world live there. Yes, you can hear four different languages on the TTC on your way to work. But that doesn’t always mean everyone is moving through the same version of the city. Depending on your neighbourhood, income, background, job, social circle, and even your commute, Toronto can sometimes feel like a bunch of parallel cities operating beside each other.
There are parts of the city that feel deeply connected and communal, but there are also invisible lines everywhere. Between downtown and the suburbs, for example, renters and homeowners, newcomers and people who grew up there, people with money and people just trying to make ends meet.
The city's multiculturalism is real and worth celebrating, but I think we do it a disservice sometimes when we pretend it automatically means everyone feels equally included.
The opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Narcity Media.
Fresh fruit at St Lawrence Market.
The vegatable aisle at No Frills.
Ellie stocks up on veg at St Lawrence Market.
Ellie's grocery haul at No Frills.
Le huard a été troqué par une mosaïque en forme de feuille d’érable dans des tons de rouge et d’orangé, célébrant la Coupe du Monde de la FIFA 2026. Monnaie royale canadienne (MRC) 
La Monnaie royale canadienne a produit un total de trois millions de cette pièce commémorative de 1 $. Monnaie royale canadienne (MRC) 