I am an unlikely city dweller. I grew up in a small town, I went to college in a smallish town, I like small towns. I remember my first drive over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco, the place I was excited to call my place of residence...for a couple years. I came armed with an air mattress and not much else. I was clearly not looking to lay down deep roots. I had big city dreams and was excited to try something different.
The first year that I lived in the city was probably the most trying time I've had ever. I was away from my family, my friends, and my boyfriend, and for the first time ever I really felt like I was on my own. I immersed myself in exploring the city about half of the time and I escaped to more familiar lands for the other half. Each time I drove back to my city life I would say to myself, "it's just one year".
And then one day, this city became my home.
I remember the day like it was yesterday, although I have no idea of the exact date. I was driving across the same bridge that I drove across a couple years before, late in the evening and I was struck by the skyline. It was my skyline. And as I crossed into San Francisco that night, I felt it in all of my being that I was home.
Tonight, I was reminded of that night as we drove home from a friend's house in the East Bay. The picture-perfect night provided a magnificent view of the city across the bay, the bridges on either side lit up, the skyline shimmering.
Tonight I am thankful for my city.
I'm not quite sure how it wrangled me in, but at some point it became mine. And like most places, the longer I'm here, the smaller it feels. So maybe I'm no longer a small town girl, but a small city girl instead.
The first year that I lived in the city was probably the most trying time I've had ever. I was away from my family, my friends, and my boyfriend, and for the first time ever I really felt like I was on my own. I immersed myself in exploring the city about half of the time and I escaped to more familiar lands for the other half. Each time I drove back to my city life I would say to myself, "it's just one year".
And then one day, this city became my home.
I remember the day like it was yesterday, although I have no idea of the exact date. I was driving across the same bridge that I drove across a couple years before, late in the evening and I was struck by the skyline. It was my skyline. And as I crossed into San Francisco that night, I felt it in all of my being that I was home.
Tonight, I was reminded of that night as we drove home from a friend's house in the East Bay. The picture-perfect night provided a magnificent view of the city across the bay, the bridges on either side lit up, the skyline shimmering.
Tonight I am thankful for my city.
I'm not quite sure how it wrangled me in, but at some point it became mine. And like most places, the longer I'm here, the smaller it feels. So maybe I'm no longer a small town girl, but a small city girl instead.
Nice thoughts Em. I remember your first year there and it did sound so temporary! Funny though because I felt the same way about LA for the longest time, but as you say, the longer you live somewhere and the more roots you put down, the homey-er it feels. Granted, I'm not going to lie, I still sometimes long for small town life, but the city can be pretty great too. :)
ReplyDeleteLove this!! I remember those air mattress days. SF has been very good to you, my friend! And I am appreciate that my besties live in fun and fabulous cities, big or small, so that I can come and have fun and be fabulous in them!
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