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Love Letter to Boston

Updated: Jun 26, 2023

Dear Boston,

To the strange and funny places I end up calling home. Your brick and mortar homes, your towering glass and metal skyscrapers. You were the city I didn’t know I wanted, the city I didn't know I needed. Pulling me away from the sunny California coast— replacing it with snowstorms, nor’easters and more wind than I could imagine. You are the opposite of where I grew up, crowded, loud, busy, bustling. The train that rolls past my apartment window until past 1 am, the sports games, tourists, and cars.

To me, it’s life, to deal with the messy and the gritty. To have to chase a train in the early morning hours and a bus late at night. Keeping me on my toes, never knowing what the next day will bring.

For all your rough edges, you have sanded me down, polished me, until I no longer resembled the scrappy nineteen-year-old that first moved into your ancient apartments. You grew me, fed me, and gave me what I needed– a bit of no-nonsense love, kindness, and care.

What my eighteen-year-old heart craved. A second home, a fresh start, and another chance to bloom.



Author's Note: This piece for me explores the idea of how we find home in unexpected places. I moved to Boston in 2019, having never visited the city before. I had no idea what to expect. I ended up falling in love with a place I never expected to call home.


Editor: Amelia P.


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