A love letter to Madrid

Dear Madrid,

It’s been more than three years since I’d left my life with you, yet to this day you hold a very special place in my heart. To me, you will always be the city of independence, growth, hard truths, and humble lessons.

When I first met you, Madrid, you made me work hard to find my place. From your language and your lifestyle, to your moods and seasons, I worked hard to belong. I had just turned 24 years old then, nursing a heartbreak deniably, with very little in my pocket. You embraced me with your thin-walled apartments, cheap blankets, and interesting characters. Some of my favorite people, I met because of you.

Did you know, Madrid, how much time I’d spent imagining a future where I got to come back? In the midst of isolation, I thought of all of the ways I could return on my own terms. All the ways I’d belong on my own terms.

Facing you again was a reality check. I realized that the city I had romanticized for years was, in many ways, just another city. I’ve missed your architecture, your streets, your lullabies — sure — but everything that made you MY Madrid was because of me.

It was my eyes that painted you in my memory. It was my narrative that built your story. And I realized that if I was able to do that with you, as a broke and heartbroken 24-year old girl, then I could very much do it all again with any city, any place, at any point of my life.

I will always come back to you, Madrid. But now I will always belong to the world.

Cuídate,

Ayn