I Moved from a Suburb to a $3 Million Neighborhood—Here's What I Discovered That Changed Everything!

When I moved from my modest Sacramento suburb to a chic Venice Beach apartment, I quickly discovered I’d entered a different world altogether. My possessions—a thrift store couch, a collection of vinyl records, and mismatched dishes—stood against the backdrop of a neighborhood where wealth was palpable. As I watched a woman in head-to-toe Lululemon strut by with a designer dog and noticed neighbors detailing their Teslas, it became abundantly clear: the rules here were unwritten, yet ever-present.

Here’s what I gleaned about fitting into a community where status quo seems dictated by an invisible code.

Always Camera-Ready

In Sacramento, I could run errands in whatever I happened to be wearing. Basketball shorts and an old band t-shirt? Totally acceptable. But in Venice, I learned quickly that even a casual trip to the farmers market required a polished look. Arriving in my usual weekend attire earned me glances that screamed “pajamas.” I soon realized that everyone else looked like they had just stepped off a runway, with athleisure outfits that likely cost more than my grocery budget.

The unspoken rule became clear: you need to look intentional. It’s not about dressing wealthy but about projecting an image that suggests you are always ready for a photo op, even if you’re simply taking out the trash.

Small Talk, Big Numbers

The question “What do you do?” took on a new meaning. In Sacramento, it was a genuine inquiry into how you spent your days. Here, it often felt like a subtle status check. People were less interested in the work itself and more in its scale and success. As a freelance writer, I found that discussions quickly turned to how much I earned and who my major clients were. The currency of conversation shifted from ideas to income.

I adapted by focusing on the topics I cover instead of the format. “I write about the psychology behind everyday decisions” suffices without opening up a rabbit hole of income comparisons.

Impressive Hobbies Only

At one neighborhood gathering, I mentioned my love for photography. The immediate response was, “Are you showing anywhere?” When I explained it was merely a hobby, confusion clouded her face. Why invest time in something without the aim of monetization? Here, hobbies come with expectations. You’re not just cooking; you’re developing recipes for a cookbook. You’re not casually learning an instrument; you’re studying under a notable teacher.

For many, the idea of doing something simply for joy seemed almost wasteful, as free time should always be productive.

Judged on Sustainability

Being vegan for the past eight years, stemming from my concern for food systems and environmental impact, I expected a level of understanding in a wealthy neighborhood. However, sustainability choices here come with preconceived standards. Yes, you should have reusable bags—just make sure they’re from the right brands. Vintage shopping is admired, but it should look expensive.

At one dinner party, my mention of being vegan prompted a competitive dialogue about plant-based restaurants and sustainable brands. It felt like a race I hadn’t even entered.

Free Time as a Status Symbol

In my previous life, saying “I’m so busy” was a common bonding statement. But in Venice, being too busy hints at poor time management. True success is measured by having time for leisure activities, like yoga or reading in the park. I quickly learned to emphasize my flexible schedule rather than my workload. Saying “I set my own schedule” sounds far better than admitting to feeling overwhelmed.

Credentials Matter

As someone who loves discussing behavioral science, I’ve always found this topic intriguing. But here, interest is often followed by questions about my academic background. When I reveal that I’m self-taught, I can feel the energy shift. My insights seem less credible without established credentials. I’ve learned to preface my comments with references to noted institutions, as citing credible sources can add weight to my observations.

Struggles Are Past Tense

Struggle stories are a staple at dinner parties, but they must remain in the past. Present-tense financial stress or career struggles feel out of place. When I mentioned my anxiety about my irregular freelance income, the room grew quiet. A neighbor even suggested I should “manifest abundance.” The overarching message: if you’re currently struggling, you must be doing something wrong.

It’s exhausting to pretend financial worries don’t exist, especially in an expensive city.

Your Network Equals Your Net Worth

In Sacramento, friendships were born from shared interests and proximity. In Venice, relationships often feel strategic. Conversations frequently revolve around what connections you bring to the table. I’ve seen people assess worth based on job titles and industry status. My partner, who works in tech, garners far more attention than I do as a freelance writer. Their industry opens doors, while mine sparks polite interest.

Reading Rudá Iandê's book, "Laughing in the Face of Chaos," helped me reframe this dynamic. I realized that I don’t have to play the game if it doesn’t serve my true self.

Living in this wealthy enclave hasn’t made me wealthy; it’s made me acutely aware of the invisible codes that govern such spaces. Some of these norms are harmless, while others feel like elaborate performances. The key is discerning which rules to embrace for comfort and which ones to quietly ignore.

I still wear my ratty band t-shirts—just not to the farmers market. I talk about my work honestly but navigate the conversation better. And I’m finding people in my neighborhood who value authenticity over appearance.

Ultimately, you have the power to decide how much of yourself you’re willing to reshape to fit in.