Dear San Francisco,
I'm a different man because of you -- your diversity, culture, restaurants, nightlife, markets, parks, concerts, ball games, and all those amazing sunsets.
You've changed so quickly. Please don’t neglect the poor, hungry and weak as you continue to evolve, and please always prioritize diversity. I always thought that your diversity made you especially beautiful.
When I come back one day, please also don't charge me too much for parking.
Thank you for all the inspiration and memories.
Michael
--
Surreal. That's usually the first word that comes to mind when I think about going on this trip. Even though Michael and I have been talking about this idea for the past year and we just finalized the itinerary for Europe, it is still unbelievable to me that we are actually going to be embarking on this amazing adventure together. But when I have moments where the reality of the next few months does sink in, I'm thrilled for what awaits us. We will have the opportunity to see historical sites that I previously only read about in books, immerse ourselves in new cultures, get out of our respective comfort zones, and eat more gelato that two people should ever reasonably consume - all the while evolving as individuals and strengthening our bond as a newly married couple. I feel incredibly lucky, to say the least.
And yet, despite all the buzz and excitement about this upcoming journey, I am struck by very real moments of sadness about leaving San Francisco. I have loved this city ever since I was a child, when my family would drive up from the peninsula at least once a month to peruse Chinatown markets, spend hours exploring at the Academy of Sciences and running around Golden Gate Park, and stuff our faces with monstrous sundaes at Ghirardelli Square. This city represents so much joyful nostalgia for me, and when I first lived here as an adult, it continued to be my happy place. I loved its vibrant energy, eclectic architecture, breathtaking sunsets, and seemingly endless offerings of fantastic hole-in-the-wall restaurants. And given that this is where Michael and I first lived together and then got married, I will always think of it as home.
Sure, we'll be back to visit, but it won't be the same. But that would be true even if we stayed. The city has changed significantly, even in the past couple of years, and it doesn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down. It's been overrun by techies and pretentious coffee shops. And the hipsters....oh, the hipsters. It's become less charming, more homogenous, and shockingly, outrageously expensive. It's moving out what's old and familiar to make room for what's shiny and new, and with that it seems to have lost some of its humanity. It's not the same city that it was when I moved here years ago, and certainly not the same one that I loved as a child.
So, even though it's bittersweet, in a way it feels like it's the right time to transition. As much as I may want to preserve the idyllic memory that I had of SF growing up, the city will never be the same as it once was. But then again, neither will we, especially after this trip. I'll always love you, San Francisco. But I'm ready for whatever awaits us in the next chapter - however challenging, interesting, beautiful, wacky, or seemingly surreal it may be.
-Alexandra