NYC [March 2017]
We were warned that there would come a time -- most likely in February/August -- where we'd question our life decisions (I'm looking at you NYC winter/summer). This past weekend there were definitely a few (ok, many) moments between my husband and I as we muttered to each other I'm wearing 5 layers, I physically can't get any more clothes on my body and Holy fuck, have you ever seriously been this cold before?! Seeing everyone post photos of themselves enjoying an afternoon swim back home did not help much either. It wasn't until later that day as I stood on the banks of the East River with the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges stretching spectacularly across the water and the city sparkling behind them like a goddess that I noticed something had shifted. I found myself forgiving her for being so god damned cold, for the black soot up my nose at the end of the day, for the man with a gun down his waistband who frightened me to the bone, the elbows in my back, the constant noise and frenetic energy and for the man who tried to punch me in the face on the subway. In that moment as I stood leaning into the frigid wind howling across the river I found that everything was forgiven, forgotten and somehow, just like that, magically redeemed.