I've answered the question "What's your big dream?" with the same answer since I could talk:
"I'm going to make it in New York."

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For as long as I could remember New York City has been my dream. I saw myself buying a one way bus ticket with nothing but a backpack, off to a new city to pursue bigger dreams. I wanted more for myself than Toronto; the city that I refuse to call mine. It's been the same dream with different scenarios, and it wasn't until this year that it's all within reach. Of course with a less angsty scenario, but nonetheless I see myself packing up my life in Toronto and making the move to New York. 

My first adult trip to New York was a surreal experience. From the moment I took off on a plane for the very first time, to walking the streets of Brooklyn, to checking into a hotel that I might as well have called home, to walking to work every morning to the Empire State Building. Everything felt familiar, a familiar feeling that I couldn't explain. The only way I can really put it into words is that, it all felt comfortable... it all felt natural, as if it had all been done before. Except it hadn't. 

It was as if the crippling weight of the world that had been on my shoulders since I was 16 had been lifted off as soon as I took off the plane. It felt like I was finally coming home; like I had been on a long trip and it was my first time back in a while. When we landed it was as if I finally gasped my first breath of air after being held under water. When the vibrancy of life drained from my life at 16, I was scared it wouldn't come back. Years passed by... 7 years to be exact, and I had given up on it. It never felt safe to breathe, it’s hard to explain. It’s like when you stop breathing because you need the silence - afraid to be found out. The colour came back in the last 7 years, but just duller than remembered. It was a lightbulb moment grabbing a coffee in Brooklyn, when my best friend turned to me and said 'You look different. You look alive. I didn't think you'd be able to find this again.' 

Home isn't a place, it's a feeling. And for the first time in my life I figured out what was missing. That empty feeling my whole life that I tried to fill with school, work, my attempt to create a family-feeling, with friends, with boys, with my dog... I came close at times, but I never quite got it. That mysterious void was the feeling of home, and for the first time in my life, I was able to fill it - and it happened to be a place. A place called New York City.