As 2018 rolls to an end — almost as swiftly as it started, it seems — I sit in reflection of the year and all of the beauty it has bestowed on me. There are plenty of tangibles in my life to be grateful for: finally feeling at home in a new city populated with lovely friends, some I have known my entire life, some I’ve met since my arrival; an address, as for a very long time I was guest bedroom-hopping; the health of my family, loved ones, and self; my representation and all the work they do for me; living so close to an Erewhon; and, my position at Black Love and all of the joy and freedom it has brought me.
But the one thing that lives at the front of my mind and radiates in appreciation from my soul and throughout my entire being is the beauty of age, the wisdom it grants, and the treasures of self love. It’s been amazing to move back to a city in my thirties that I lived in in my twenties — after a seven-year absence. So much about the city feels absolutely like it is 2009. I will be driving by the Belmont and suddenly I am stuffing my face with the best mac and cheese (no more dairy) I’ve ever tasted, washing it down with margaritas (no more binge drinking), while figuring out how to get home (hello Uber!). Of course, there is much about the city that is new— like Topshop and Go Get Em Tiger (two of my current faves), the aforementioned Uber, and the even newer Lyft. Girlfriends who were single when I left are now married with children, and girlfriends who were halfway down the aisle are now single and all about that mingle. And, of course, there is all of that grocery and restaurant delivery!