As my friends all started to head back to school and summer came to an end, I felt a strange flutter of conflicting emotion — though I felt ready to return to school and resume my education, I wasn’t eager to trade in the comfort of my Phoenix home for the craze of big-city college life. 

Los Angeles, after all, isn’t exactly a universal paradise. In recent years, the internet has made the city somewhat of a punching bag, taking issue with traffic, influencer culture and the rising cost of living, among many grievances. These reasons have, in part, led to a mass exodus since the coronavirus pandemic, with over 140,000 residents leaving in 2022 alone, according to the Los Angeles Times. But behind the recent wave of disfavor toward L.A. lies the beauty and culture that led it to become the world-famous salad bowl that it is. 

Unlike New York City or Tokyo, L.A. is not a singular urban metropolis. Instead, it is a sprawling collection of vastly different neighborhoods, each complete with its own identity and culture. You aren’t necessarily going to stumble upon a local cornerstone every time you step foot off campus; discovering these unique locales takes intention.

The vastness of L.A. County captures unique snapshots of everything Southern California has to offer: the relaxed, coastal vibes of Manhattan and Hermosa Beach to the wilderness of the Santa Monica Mountains, from the cultural epicenter of West Hollywood to the dreamlike, suburban San Fernando Valley, from the ethnic enclaves like Little Tokyo to the West Coast indie paradise that is Silver Lake, and everywhere in between. 

The reward of living in a place as culturally dense and diverse as L.A. exists in its cornucopia of opportunity; there’s a community for every niche imaginable. More than 75% of people in L.A. County identify as people of color, bringing countless cultures and over 200 languages to the city, as recorded by the We Count LA 2020 Census campaign. 

Having explored much of the city in the last year since I moved here, I would say I’ve been able to at least somewhat put my finger on the pulse of L.A. One could never explore every back street or eat at every restaurant — especially not a transplant like myself — but it only takes one expedition to discover a sense of belonging in a new city. 

Last weekend, I was driving down the blocks of Los Feliz in search of a parking space just big enough to parallel park my 2008 Toyota RAV4. En route to a burger spot before catching Mac DeMarco at the Greek Theatre, I couldn’t fight the smile that kept finding its way onto my face: a direct contradiction to the uneasiness I had felt toward this city not even a week earlier.

I came to the epiphany that this hipster’s paradise of sidewalk cafes and locally owned antique shops reminded me of my favorite parts of my Phoenix home. Seeing neighbors out walking their dogs and grabbing dinner at the locals-only spot down the street lined with bougainvilleas made me feel like, if only for an evening, that I was among my people. 

However, there are some caveats to the city’s extensive design, mainly in the form of transportation. Urban sprawl has driven L.A. to become a car-centric city, and the L.A. Metro is notably lacking as public transit for the second-largest city in the country, given its limited service area and high post-pandemic crime rates — reaching 2.18 crimes per 100,000 rides as of 2024, as reported by CalMatters.

If you don’t have a car — and most students don’t — it can be hard to escape the two-mile Department of Public Safety zone surrounding USC’s campus. It’s hard to experience these niche pockets of the city if you don’t even have access to them. You can only take the Metro to Santa Monica and Grand Central Market so many times, and Ubering across town every weekend isn’t exactly the most fiscally conscious choice for a broke college student. 

But don’t let just one disillusionment — the time you regrettably decided to venture out during rush-hour traffic or fell victim to tourist prices — shape your opinion of L.A. as a whole.

Los Angeles is far from perfect: I think anyone who’s ever spent time here can attest to that. But that doesn’t mean it’s not magical. You can’t make up your mind on the city without at least trying to meet it on its terms. Persevere past the ever-growing list of criticisms and you’ll find your own special reason to love this city, not for its trendy TikTok attractions or excess of superficial attitudes, but the community that makes Angelenos proud to call L.A. home.