I moved from Los Angeles to a smaller city on the coast. Four years later, I’m still struggling to adapt.

• I grew up in Los Angeles and never thought I’d leave, but love led me to move to Santa Barbara.

• It’s been hard to live away from my community and try to make new friends in my 20s.

I never imagined I’d leave Los Angeles. The city is where I was born and raised, and where my family, childhood friends, and all my favorite local hangouts are.

Then, I fell in love with a guy who lived a few hours away in Santa Barbara, the coastal city where he’d spent much of his life.

I moved, and didn’t need much convincing to do so. Santa Barbara was still in California, and it had my partner, accessible beaches, walkable pathways, and scenic vistas.

Soon, though, I realized just how different this coastal city was from where I was raised in Los Angeles County.

Making new friends proved to be difficult

Growing up in Los Angeles, I was surrounded by people in different stages of life — those still figuring it out, those already established, and those somewhere in between.

I was never too far from friends I’d made throughout my life, and they had their own friends whom I’d also become acquainted with. All this kinship is something I lost when I moved to Santa Barbara.

Here, I felt lonely without any sense of community or preexisting connections. I was suddenly mostly surrounded by my partner’s childhood friends, college students, and our happily retired neighbors.

From where I stood, it felt like a lot of locals already belonged to an established clique and community. Many people I met had either never left Santa Barbara or had moved away for college and then returned.

In any place, it can feel especially tough to make new friends in your 20s — especially because it’s not uncommon to be on a completely different path than someone just a few years older than you.

Still, I tried putting myself out there on the Bumble BFF app and made a few connections, but none felt organic or long-lasting.

I found myself meeting many people my age who didn’t plan to stick around. To them, Santa Barbara was a pass-through city or day-trip destination rather than a place to settle down.

Pastimes in a coastal city feel drastically different

Even though I didn’t relocate to a different state, it felt like I had at times. For one, driving from Santa Barbara to Los Angeles is an hourslong commitment.

I’d grown up in an inland part of California, where going to the beach was viewed as a special treat reserved for weekends when you were OK with spending hours stuck in traffic to get there.

Therefore, grabbing a latte and heading to the mall was seen as an acceptable pastime. I was in for a rude awakening by the coast.

Now, the closest mall is about an hour’s drive away, and not having an outdoorsy pastime other than walking on the beach makes me feel more like a transplant than a local.

I was not shocked to discover that many people in Santa Barbara like to surf and play beach volleyball, though I was surprised to find out how big a deal pickleball is here.

Although I’m open to learning, I’ve never been athletically gifted, and many of these activities require a group, whereas I’m still trying to find even just a couple of people I feel comfortable around.

This has added to my challenges with making new friends. I still recall feeling like a complete outsider when I turned down an invite to a pickleball birthday party of a girl I’d just met on Bumble BFF.

The rest of her group jumped at the opportunity, but in all honesty, I didn’t want to take away from her big day by having to be taught how to play the sport.

After moving, I also felt like I lost my sense of cultural identity

In Los Angeles, I spent much of my time in my hometown of Glendale, a city known for its large Armenian diaspora.

Being an American-Armenian, I’d frequently indulge in cultural foods, visit Armenian markets, and comfortably speak my native language to those around me. I never realized how rooted I was in my cultural identity until I moved away.

One day, it hit me. I no longer have access to my favorite cultural hubs, and I still find myself calling relatives as an excuse to practice the language I grew up with.

It’s been 4 years since I moved, and I’m making the most of it

Four years since moving, I can attest that the first two were the most difficult. In time, I found a way to make the most of living here.

I began diving headfirst into philanthropy and giving back. I became an active volunteer with organizations like the American Red Cross, The Dream Foundation, and ENGin. This work has been incredibly healing, and it’s made me feel silly for dwelling on life’s minor inconveniences.

I also started writing for a local magazine, which has given me the opportunity to meet talented artists, designers, and business owners I otherwise would not have had the privilege of speaking with.

In the midst of it all, I’ve become extremely comfortable with being alone. I’ve started dining alone with a book, visiting museums by myself, and catching movies solo.

Although I haven’t found my tribe yet, I’ve found a loving life partner and a city that’s rich in coastal beauty, creative energy, and slow living. All I can do is continue showing up for my new community and hope that the right people will find me at the right time.

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