I found home in a person before I found it in a place. In January 2017, I met my now-husband — a 6-foot-3 Indo-Fijian man with kind eyes and a deep, soothing voice — on Bumble in Canada.
At the time, I was a New Yorker living in Toronto temporarily. I had a couple of childhood friends in the city, and I was bouncing between Airbnbs, treating Toronto as a short-term reset to help me heal during a tough time.
I wasn’t looking for forever on the apps: just casual connections, maybe even a fling.
In New York City, I had always felt like an alien, without a true sense of belonging. Between dating emotionally unavailable men, chronic anxiety, and holding onto friendships that I’d outgrown, I never felt like I had fully found my place.
With him, though, I felt comfortable and safe immediately. Even though I hadn’t necessarily planned to stay, I decided to turn my six-month stint in Toronto into a more permanent move by enrolling in a postgrad program and then getting a work permit.
Staying in Canada meant starting over
Naima Karp
I was deeply in love, but the harder I fell, the more I realized how alone I felt outside our relationship. For the first time, I was experiencing a love that felt healthy, and it helped me recognize what I needed from the other relationships in my life.
As a result, many of my relationships that weren’t fulfilling those needs fell to the wayside — including those with the childhood friends I’d been visiting in Toronto in the first place.
Not to mention my remaining friends and family, of course, were living further away in New York City. With the exception of my partner and his dog, Diesel — who, at 14, I still consider one of my best friends today — I felt fully and truly alone.
With the goal of meeting new people, I tried taking classes and joining workout studios. The women seemed friendly, but I was too shy to make the first move, especially when many showed up in pairs or groups.
My saving grace was my friend Leila. We first met when I took one of her workout classes and immediately found her empowering, inclusive approach to movement refreshing. I asked if I could interview her for a magazine I’d been writing for, and she agreed.
We chatted over a joint in a park, and we’ve been best friends ever since. I lovingly call her my forest fairy, since she’s happiest in nature with her feet in the mud.
Leila and I learned to communicate and even argue in a healthy, respectful way, brushing away the detritus of the past to make room for growth.
Our relationship gave me the courage to make the first move with others and to embrace the possibility of connection with new friends.
I went out of my comfort zone to build friendships with intention
Naima Karp
By the time I finished my postgrad program, I’d made two friends: Pooja and Anisha. I was guarded during my time at school due to the fallout that had happened with my childhood group of friends, not wanting to open myself to more hurt.
However, knowing I was engaged and that Toronto would become more of a permanent home, I challenged myself to say yes to plans, and I’m so glad I did.
Although Pooja has since moved back to India, Anisha and I still regularly connect, checking Toronto cafés off our bucket list every month or so. Around this time, I also bonded with my neighbor Sue over having big, goofy dogs, and discovered the beauty of intergenerational friendship along the way.
I also returned to the Bumble app — this time, for Bumble BFF — which helped me meet like-minded women and make the first move. As an introvert, finding people with similar interests and lifestyles made it easier to come up with icebreakers.
Some of those early coffee dates and first messages have since grown into deep, meaningful friendships.
Friendship takes effort, and when it pays off, it’s magic
Now that I’ve been in Toronto for almost 10 years — and happily married to my husband for the majority of that time — I’ve learned that friendships can build slowly, and that some won’t last a lifetime.
Often, friendship is about putting in the work. It involves consistency, accountability, and a lot of bravery.
Staying in Canada for love changed my life, but I had to learn how to belong beyond my marriage, be vulnerable with others, and let friendships grow imperfectly over time.
Nearly a decade later, Canada feels like home not just because of my husband, but because of the women who showed up and stayed.
