I’m not the same girl I was when I left.
(I’m so much more than I was!)
I started this blog before I moved to London because I wanted to document my travels; I felt a sense of freedom and a sense of self that I didn’t have before, and I wanted to show the world what I could be.
I am moving home in just over a month, and I am feeling that old nostalgia creeping over me like the vines over the colleges in Cambridge. The way you look around on the tube, and think “I won’t be taking this train anymore once I leave”, look fondly up at St Paul’s Cathedral and see it in a different light, or running my fingertips along the books in Foyle’s. There are places I call home here, that will probably always be home to me. They made me happy, and they were a part of my journey. There are people I don’t want to leave, and places I want to always be around.
I didn’t document my life over here as much as I intended to – I left it to instagram posts every other day, and just lived it. There are so many pictures, so many things I want to tell, but I haven’t. The stories are there though, there inside me and I know that I can share them whenever I want to. They’re not going anywhere. I did live. I saw the whole of the UK. I traveled with my sister through Italy and Greece. I went to Paris, twice, with old friends. I saw fireworks from the top of a penthouse in London on New Years Eve.
Parts of this year wasn’t easy. Sometimes when you go through something personal, it’s just that: personal. Some people find it easy to share; sometimes I do, but some things I went through this year were hard to discuss. And this blog, for me, can be quite personal. It’s not a bad thing. Sometimes it’s inspiring being vulnerable, and sharing something relatable. I know I love that in other people’s writing, feeling the same feelings that they’ve laid out on the table.
I was talking to my friend the other day, who moved to London at the same time I did. Our time is coming to a close, and we can experience those feelings together. We spoke about it a few months ago, walking along the Tower Bridge at sunset at 4 am. One of those spontaneous and surreal moments.
“It’s scary leaving. But also good… it’s a fresh start. You can do anything you want.”
That’s how I felt when I left, and that’s how I feel now. Life is for the living, and every open door will lead to something. I’m feeling good, feeling the hot London summer wind run through my hair, taking in everything, trying not to forget any cobble stone, any corner pub, or coffee shop under a train archway.
I don’t think I ever will.
PS: Lorde’s new album came out at the perfect time.