Very few places on the Earth really capture me, fully, like Los Angeles. The minute I step out of the airport I can feel my chest rise, my heart beat faster, and a smile that I didn’t know I was missing creep across my face. The cool, crisp California air floats around me as the sunshine kisses my cheeks. It’s really not anything special, especially for someone that grew up in this temperate weather, but now that I’ve been removed from such a place I find that every time I return I am in awe with every bit of it.

If you don’t know my story, let me quickly recap it for you: I love California. But I love my fiancé. And so I moved from California to Miami to be with him. End of story.

The day I packed my bags was one of the hardest days of my life. There was so much certainty in my love for this place that it was hard to turn my back on it for a big, fat unknown. I’m happy I did because my relationship has rocked my world and I’ve developed into a woman that I can easily say I’m proud of as a result. At the same time it is always so incredibly hard to return home because I always fear I may never board the return flight to Miami.

I find myself enjoying the dirty streets of Hollywood because only in Hollywood can you appreciate the story behind the dirty streets. I don’t mind traffic quite as much because I find that it gives me an excuse to look around and have my windows rolled down. The poshy people in Brentwood don’t bother me quite as much as one would think only because I think it’s so funny that the residents of Brentwood (one of the most isolated and wealthy areas of Los Angeles) would have anything to be concerned about, in the first place. The homeless people that ask for money and the drug addicts that bark at me only make me curious. I have no hate in my heart for any of it, only love and curiosity.

Somehow, this city has captured my soul, rendered me completely useless in the realm of discernment as I shrug off the shortcomings and the smog as “a part of the experience”. 

So here I am, finding myself smile as I exit a crowded store simply because the sun is gently lapping on my skin as the cool, marine breeze touches my hair. It’s an experience that can only be described as one of California.

Also, Los Angeles and Santa Monica are like the raw food mecca and for someone that is giddy over coconut and goji berries it seems unreal that I could ever leave a place like this. The Co-Op in Santa Monica is like my personal treasure trove and the different raw food restaurants that are sprinkled precariously throughout the city make this place a very special wonderland for me.

Sometimes it’s good to just get away, take a trip that is good for the soul. What do you think?? Do you have anywhere that does this for you?


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