Dear New York, I Get It Now

03 Oct Dear New York, I Get It Now

I love this city, I hate it sometimes, too. In an effort to keep track of my feelings about the Big Apple during my time here I try my best to chronicle them in a letter to this crazy place. Welcome to Dear New York–a series posted monthly on the anniversary of the date I moved here. 

Hey you.

Long time, no speak, right?

I don’t know if you know this New York but I came into 29 pretty single. Like, very single. Like, open to whatever single. I just knew that I was going to live out my Carrie Bradshaw fantasies, dating all sorts of men, and blogging about it.

Or so I thought.

I’ve never known love like this. Not just romantically but within my friendships. My girls have been able to be there for me in a way that I could have never imagined: going to look at apartments for me, coming to meet me with thermoses full of wine when I was sad, helping me drag 30 balloons on the train (really, this happened), and with weekly prayer dates. This year’s been w i l d, New York.

While I was redesigning the blog, I went back and reread old posts to get back into the hang of writing in my own voice. I read everything from the past year, and then went on to read every single unpublished draft. One in particular stood out to me.

It was a ‘Dear New York’ post and I was lamenting about the amount of PDA I was forced to endure going about daily life, writing:

“Without fail, everyday, I am subject to one of three things: a couple holding on to a subway pole like they are the only two people on the train car, staring at each other and talking in baby voices, full on kissing, talking not even an each away from the other one’s face or holding hands walking slowly on a crowded street, taking up the whole sidewalk.”

Shop the look: American Eagle Outfitters denim jacket ($52.46), Zara crushed velvet slip dress ($29.90), Zara booties ($59.90), Zara choker ($15.99), Kenzo clutch, Bare Escentials Matte Lipcolor in Bo$$ ($18) 

I wrote that in 2013. My, have things changed.

So there is this man, New York. I think he is the most handsome thing walking, he’s so sweet, and funny, and considerate — he built me bed risers so I could bring all of my shoe bins home from storage. And I tell him that all the time. My friends were shocked the first time they saw us together. Is that PDA? Is that our Channing? They couldn’t believe it. Neither could I though, New York.

It’s not unlike the pride I feel swell when I see your skyline in the distance. I can’t hold in how much I love this city or its charm. Or him, apparently. So, if you see me out and about and I’m carrying on about how this dude is such a man or the way he looks in his grey sweats, don’t judge me. Just know that I feel the same way about you and I’m not too proud to show it. I get it now.

And I can’t help but think that New York (and the world) would be a lot nicer if more people loved on each other publicly. Below are a few of my boo and I’s favorite date night spots, mapped. I’d head to Olio e Piú first while it’s still warm enough to sit outside. Order the fresh clams to start, then the Diavola pizza with a glass of red.

Affectionately yours and not afraid to show it publicly,