Revisiting the city that broke me - And Finding Peace Anyways

The last time I was in Boston, I was a mess—manic, depressed, angry, and deeply alone. It wasn’t the homecoming I had imagined. The city felt like a cold reflection of everything that had unraveled in my life. I had come here wide-eyed as a child, enchanted by its glittering mix of art, architecture, and ambition—a stark contrast to the quiet woods and waves of Maine. Later, I moved here for school, hungry to prove myself, always pushing the limits… but often in ways that only pulled me further from myself.

I remember my first apartment. It was the life I thought I wanted: freedom, independence, a place of my own. But it was also the height of the pandemic. The world had shut down, and so had I. My favorite job—the one that finally felt like me—fell apart. Everything spiraled. The city that once inspired me became a mirror of my isolation.

Still, I can’t deny what Boston gave me: the permission to create, to explore, to experiment. It unlocked parts of my creative spirit I didn’t know existed. I just wish I had been in a better place to receive it all with clarity and care. My relationship with this city has always been complicated—intoxicating, but also unfinished.

Now, over a year later, I’ve returned. And something feels… different.

There’s no pit in my stomach. No bitterness. I’m not here to “prove” anything. I’m just walking the streets, quietly, curiously, like a visitor meeting an old version of myself—and realizing I’ve grown.

It makes me wonder: what if things had gone differently? What if I had been able to stay, to keep building a life here, away from the heaviness of home and the chaos that followed? But I’m learning that wondering doesn’t mean regret. It just means there’s still love here.

As Pride Month ends and July begins, I find myself reflecting on the path I’ve carved out over the last year.

And honestly? I’m proud.

✨ I’ve begun speaking to myself with more kindness.

🌿 I’ve removed people, habits, and spaces that were poisoning my joy.

🕺 I walked in New York Fashion Week—me, on that runway.

💍 I helped design weddings that crossed oceans.

🌲 I’ve reconnected with the earth, with stillness, with the magic of just being.

I’m not done. Far from it. But I’m different. And I’m ready.

This isn’t just a comeback. It’s a reclamation.

To anyone who’s ever left a city—or a version of themselves—behind: you can return. And when you do, you might just find that what once broke you is now a backdrop to your healing.

Let’s see what I do next.