I loved living in New York. The people, the pace, everything. I loved all the positive stereotypes (the tempo, the intensity) and experienced none of the negative stereotypes (rudeness, pushiness). I even enjoyed the seasons (except on the really humid days of summer). I’ve always been proud of the fact that I’m a Bay Area girl, perhaps with a dash of New York sensibility for a variety of reasons (including a mom from Brooklyn). I was born and raised in San Francisco, and have lived in four of the counties that comprise the Bay Area. But when I moved to New York five years ago, I honestly thought I would live there indefinitely. I even found myself a New York guy to cement the deal.
Then life handed mad this opportunity to return to California and we took it, because we knew that mad would be mad no matter where we lived. Over the last week or so, I’ve really started to feel like I’m home again. First, I went on a business trip and for the first time in what feels like forever, I flew into SFO not as a visitor, but as a resident. Then, mad socialized with some long-lost friends last weekend and tonight. And all of that was done without any pressure. No concern that we have to fit every bit of information into this visit because we don’t know when the next one will be. No conflict that I’m taking precious time away from my family on this visit. No worries about not being able to do everything we want to in the Bay Area during this particular stretch of time. And of course, most importantly, because last week I flew into San Francisco and came home to Mike. Of course, more than anything, being “home” means that you’re where you belong. So while I’ve felt like I’ve been back for over a month now, and there are certainly people and places back in NY that I miss, I’m starting to feel like I’m home.
mad in SF back in 2007; we've been here before, but now we're home