Well here I am in pink velvet and lace, and I'm feeling like the obvious choice would be to write something romantic, something about love, some kind of Valentine's Day inspired post. I'm not exceedingly inspired in that direction, though, even though I enjoy the holiday plenty and already have my deep dish pizza dinner and tickets to hear Tavi Gevinson talk about her new book all lined up to celebrate.
Let's talk about city romance instead. Some of my hardest breakups have been with the places I've lived. Honestly, I didn't have a super difficult transition from East coast to West coast living because I was, like so many eighteen-year-olds, ready. Bring on that adventure.
My first hard city breakup was with the town where I went to college: Santa Cruz, California. Man, that beach life is the best. But the recession was a real thing and there were no jobs to be had. So my then-boyfriend and I packed our 1974 VW beetle (if you didn't own one, you never really lived in Santa Cruz) to the brim and went over the hill to spend the next three ho-hum years in San Jose.
San Jose was pretty easy to leave. It was kind of like one of those filler relationships you do between the good ones just to avoid feeling alone. We lived near Whole Foods back before anyone (except for people from Santa Cruz) really knew what organics were. So I guess that was a highlight. I was chronically overworked during that time. I was enrolled beyond full time in graduate school (yes, that is possible) and working as a nanny and an aerobics instructor 50+ hours per week. At the time, it felt like a ton, but honestly, it was just practice for being a mother, where you do all that plus wake up four times per night to be projectile vomited on. But the joy of children fuels you on and on and on.
Moving to San Francisco was the most fun. San Francisco is still my favorite place to be. I spent three wonderful years in Noe Valley, and had I never divorced my first husband, I'd probably be living the good life in one of those converted-warehouse places in Dogpatch. All San Francisco-living dreams aside, thank goodness for that divorce. I cried hard when I moved to the peninsula, but honestly, it is a great place to land, and San Francisco is only a half-hour away (actually it's an hour away because of traffic but let's pretend that's not true).
City breakups can be so rough! But like the relationships we have with people, city relationships, even the ones that end sadly, teach us lots about who we are and help us become who we want to be. Thanks for reading!