After four unexpected months of being away, sleeping on couches and in borrowed beds, I'm finally home... not for long though.
What a feeling. A feeling so overwhelming.
As the months progressed and my thoughts traveled toward faraway lands, and possible change, the memories and fondness that I once held so close to my heart slowly became distant. The thoughts of a city I just spent the last 3.5+ years in were now pushing me further and further away toward a new life, a new chapter. In a time when most everything is uncertain, instead of remembering the good, I chose to only see the bad: the exorbitant rent, spouts of loneliness, hatred for my job. And yet, within ten minutes of being back, walking through the lobby, rekindling my connection with the doorman, that separation began to fade.
The more I started to think and act, the more connected that I felt. Lighting a candle, burning some incense, switching on my beautiful, moroccan swag. Laying down upon my soft, cotton sheets and peering out through my vast bedroom windows overlooking the East River, I was engulfed. Engulfed by emotion, without room for much else.
I thought being away from this space, my place, wouldn't affect me. In no way did I think those small, rudimentary acts could bring me to tears. And yet, they did. And there I was. Unable to go two whole minutes without wiping away water as it puddled in my eyes.
While I recognized each of my belongings were transportable and there was nothing physically binding me there, I loved the space I had built. It wasn't just the space itself but the life that formed with it. Being in this city has brought me toward self-love, self-acceptance, self-reflection and personal branding. It's brought me laughter and fun, friendship and partnership. I've had moments of beauty intermingled with moments of bliss, and those moments, while fleeting, are moments nothing short of transformative.
So while I think about how I've turned some of that darkness into light, I realize that my journey isn't over. Choosing to leave this home I've built isn't the end of my story. It's the end of this chapter, just as I've had many chapters come before. And while it may feel bittersweet, I can stand tall with my sights looking toward the future, knowing that I believed in myself, stayed motivated, had a bit of fun and was ever present when under the beautiful city lights.
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