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“Pennsylvania doesn’t feel real in autumn.”

I don’t know what made me choose Pennsylvania for my first-ever solo trip, but I’m really glad I did. I genuinely wasn’t expecting the state to feel this cinematic.

Somehow places like Lancaster, Lititz, and Jim Thorpe exist like they were designed specifically for people who romanticize their lives for fun.

You drive past rolling farmland that looks painted, stop at a tiny coffee shop inside a centuries-old brick building, then end up wandering through quiet streets glowing under string lights while the mountains disappear into fog. It’s the kind of place that makes ordinary weekends feel oddly memorable.

The entire state has this strangely cinematic feeling to it: — rainy evenings in Pittsburgh — train rides through the mountains near Jim Thorpe — covered bridges and back-road farm stands near Lancaster — golden forests everywhere in the Pocono Mountains

🖋️ Storybook Pennsylvania Starter Pack ✨

📚 creaky old bookstores ☕ cafés inside historic buildings 🍁 unreal fall colors 🚂 mountain towns that feel frozen in time 🕯️ cozy main streets 🌾 fields that stretch forever

Honestly, I get why so many people are quietly relocating here lately. Slower pace, beautiful seasons, affordable smaller towns, and communities that still feel personal. The whole state feels soft, nostalgic, and slightly unreal in the best possible way.

Upstate New York is getting more attention for a reason.

As housing costs continue rising in larger cities, more people are exploring places like Buffalo, Rochester, Albany, Saratoga Springs, and Ithaca for affordability, outdoor access, quieter neighborhoods, and a better pace of life.

Many upstate communities are now being viewed as some of the best places to live in New York because they offer more space, strong local amenities, growing downtown districts, and easier access to nature without feeling completely disconnected from jobs, healthcare, or entertainment.

Remote and hybrid work have completely changed what many people want from where they live. Walkable neighborhoods, hiking trails, lakes, ski towns, local food scenes, farmers markets, and smaller downtown districts now matter far more than they did a decade ago.

That shift is helping reshape communities across Upstate New York. New housing projects, revitalized downtown areas, growing restaurant scenes, and increased interest from younger buyers are bringing new energy to many cities and towns throughout the region.

Part of the appeal is that no two places feel exactly alike. Some Upstate New York communities feel more urban and connected, while others offer quiet small-town living surrounded by nature and open space.

I ended up in the Indianapolis area because of work and decided to spend a little time exploring Carmel while I was there. I thought it  would feel like every other polished American suburb: nice houses, chain restaurants, wide roads, and not much else.

Instead, I was pleasantly surprised. Carmel felt strangely easy to live in.

The first thing I noticed was how calm everything felt. Not empty. Not sleepy. Just organized in a way that made daily life smoother. The roundabouts actually worked. Traffic moved. Trails connected neighborhoods, parks, cafés, and shopping areas without feeling disconnected from each other.

Downtown Carmel surprised me the most. The Arts & Design District had local coffee shops, public art, small boutiques, and people actually walking around instead of just driving everywhere. The Monon Trail gave the city energy that most suburbs never really have.

And then there’s the balance. Carmel somehow feels polished without feeling overwhelming. You’re close to Indianapolis for big-city access, but Carmel itself feels quieter, cleaner, and slower in the best way.

I can see why so many families and remote workers end up loving it here. It’s one of those places where convenience sneaks up on you. After a few days, you start noticing how much easier everything feels.

I came to Grand Rapids planning to stay for just two weeks. I packed light, brought my laptop, and figured I’d work remotely from a few coffee shops before heading back home.

But Michigan made it hard to leave.

Remote work gave me the freedom to stay longer, so I started exploring more of the state between workdays. One weekend was spent driving along Lake Michigan. Another was wandering small lake towns, finding quiet bookstores, local diners, and trails that looked unreal during sunset.

What surprised me most about Grand Rapids was how balanced it felt. Busy enough to keep life interesting, calm enough to actually enjoy your day. Breweries, farmers markets, art spots, and easy weekend trips made it easy to see why so many people consider it one of the best places to live in Michigan.

Two weeks somehow turned into a few months.

I thought ‘livable’ meant loud. Ohio proved me wrong. I used to think a good life had to be busy. Noise. Movement. Always something happening.

Then I stayed with my cousin in Ohio for a couple of months.

And, nothing really happened. Which is exactly what changed my mind.

Life felt easier. Not boring. Just unhurried.

Mornings were slower, not rushed or chaotic. We’d run into the same people without planning to. A few cafés became “ours” for no real reason. Weekends didn’t disappear, they reset you.

At first, I kept waiting to get bored. But it never came.

Life felt stable. Predictable in a way that didn’t drain you.

What stood out wasn’t hype. It was balance. And it mattered more than I thought:

Cost of living that doesn’t drain your income. Safety you don’t constantly think about. Homes that feel like yours, not compromises.

From what I saw while I was there, each place had its own vibe:

📍 Columbus: growing, creative, full of opportunity 📍 Cincinnati: walkable, character, balanced 📍 Cleveland: underrated, affordable, lakefront energy 📍 Dublin: quiet, community-first, great schools 📍 Toledo / Dayton: simple, practical, low-cost living

I used to scroll past lists of the best places to live in Ohio. Now I understand why they keep showing up.

Maybe boring isn’t the worst thing. Maybe it’s just another word for sustainable.

“Some places don’t demand your energy but they give it back.”

I thought I needed noise. Being 24, I thought I needed the big city energy and the constant motion. Atlanta was perfect.

Then my roommate moved out. My lease ended. Rent didn’t make any sense. And my grandmother had a spare room. In Naperville, Illinois.

I told myself it was temporary. I worked remotely, so the move was easy. That was 18 months ago.

Turns out, places like Naperville, Schaumburg, and Downers Grove aren’t boring, they’re livable.

Low crime. People walk at night. Farmers’ markets where someone remembers your name.

And the cost? An actual one-bedroom with dining, inclusive parking, even a gym in the building, all for less than what I paid in Atlanta.

I used to scroll through lists of the best places to live in Illinois and skip past the suburb names without a second thought. Now I live in one. Now I get it.

My grandmother’s been here 31 years. Block parties. Familiar faces. Quiet consistency. She was right. She's always right. But I'll never tell her I said that.

“Some places aren’t loud, they’re just livable.”