You said you'd never be like this. You arrived in Vancouver bright-eyed, optimistic, and determined to remain true to yourself.
You looked around at the locals, judged their behaviours (which they absolutely deserved), and promised internally you would never fall into the same traps.
You'd repeat mantras like: I will not wear head-to-toe athletic gear while doing uniquely non-athletic things. I will not avoid eye contact with other human beings like it's a competitive sport. I will not make someone feel bad for not wanting to go "backpacking". Or, for that matter, I will not make someone feel bad for not even knowing what "backpacking" really is.
You thought you'd be different. Better, even. But places have a way of sucking you in... as do people. Didn't a motivational speaker once say, "you are the average of the five people you spend the most time with"?
So buckle up, Vancouver newcomers. Allow me to introduce the new you.
You will start wearing "athleisure" everywhere
If you moved here from somewhere like Toronto or Montreal, you likely arrived with an expectation that people dress like human beings. Maybe you're someone who'd like to throw together a cute outfit for the market. Or even want to look nice to go out to brunch on a Sunday. That will change.
Vancouver has a fascinating relationship with clothing wherein everyone dresses as though they might suddenly need to spring into action and run a half-marathon at a moment's notice.
Practical walking shoes. Technical rain jackets. Leggings while sitting in cafés. It's a truly terrible thing about this city. At first, you'll resist it too. You'll cling to your outfits, your sense of style.
But herd mentality is all too powerful. And one day you'll find yourself reaching for a Lululemon legging and North Face vest to go meet a friend for lunch, wondering how you got here. It's like a horror movie. You won't even notice it happening.
You will start activity-shaming people
Hurt people hurt people. In Vancouver, one of the key ways we do this is by shaming activity.
You'll try to stand your ground. You'll explain that you're happy with a few pilates classes per week and 5-10K steps a day (give or take). You might make the mistake of claiming to enjoy the occasional day off where you don't exercise at all. That waking up at 5:30 a.m. to ski, hike, bike, run, or climb something tall and mildly dangerous doesn't actually sound like the best time to you...
Uh oh. Let the shaming begin: "What are you doing with all your free time? Are you depressed? No? Just lazy? You stayed at home and watched Bridgerton? Good for you for not feeling compelled to get fresh air or move your body or do anything productive — I can't relate!!!"
It's brutal.
Then, the darkest hour will come. After you've been broken down just enough to do out-of-character things like a weekend "backpacking trip". You'll catch yourself somewhere between year one and year two, activity-shaming a new innocent: "What's the point of living in Vancouver if you're not going to get outside and really enjoy all it has to offer?"
And just like this, the cycle continues. Congratulations. You are now the villain.
You will become cliquey (by accident)
Making friends in Vancouver is… a journey.
When you first move here, you'll quickly realize how difficult it can be to break into social circles — especially during the grey months when everyone is emotionally conserving energy. Eventually, though, you'll find your people. It might take a year, maybe two, but it happens.
And then something interesting occurs. A brand new person moves to the city. They're trying to make friends (just like you once were). You're not mean to them, but you are tired, and when battling the ups and downs of October-May seasonal depression, you realize it's hard to keep up with the friends you already have much less extend your social circle.
And it's in that moment you clock: You've become one of the cliquey Vancouverites you once complained about.
You will become numb to astronomical prices
At first, the cost of living here will shock you. You'll stare at housing listings in disbelief. Take photos of coffee prices and send them to friends back home, like they're crime-scene evidence. But eventually, you adjust. You grow numb. You get comfortable.
Until two years in, where you'll find yourself saying sentences that would have horrified your past self: "She bought a 2-bed 2-bath apartment in Kits for ONLY $1.3 million. It needs like a full reno, but still pretty good deal."
Your bar for normalcy quietly shifts, and what was once (and should always be) jarring is now just your new normal.
You will start pretending not to see people you know
This is the one of our worst qualities.
Vancouver has a curious social habit where people who clearly recognize each other on the street will pretend they don't. They look away, suddenly becoming aggressively preoccupied with their phones. Sometimes they even cross the street to avoid one another.
At first, you'll find this behaviour deeply unsettling (as we all should). Then you'll experience the true Vancouver nightmare: saying hello to someone who clearly did not want to be greeted.
Soon enough, you'll find yourself participating in the subtle dance of mutual eye-dodging and avoidance. It's a vicious cycle. And unless you are an extremely extroverted person with a slightly heroic disregard for social cues… you'll probably do it too.
The views expressed in this Opinion article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Narcity Media.
