grateful for san francisco

Nine years ago, I had no idea what to expect.  I moved to San Francisco, sight unseen, with a tenuous job and a temporary apartment.  Through perseverance and luck, I was able to parlay a series of complications into a stable life in one of the most idyllic places in this country, although that last opinion is firmly in the camp of liberal conjecture.

My relationship with San Francisco has not been without blemish.  I certainly war with the notion of personal freedom winning out over common decency, and I hardly take advantage of some of the city’s more striking features.  (Somehow, my presence at the multitudinous Web 2.0 happy hours, bondage dungeons, and Burning Man fundraisers has not been missed.)  Regardless, I visit her beaches and parks, wander her curious little neighborhoods, and spend each workday in her beating, bleeding heart.  I have come to know her somewhat well, and come to love her.

Yet I am not a native, and will never be.  Those who were born here are rather clear on this fact.  I stopped worrying about it a few years ago when I was gently told that no matter how long I’ve lived here, I am not a San Franciscan.  Most people aren’t.  In such a transient city, no one much cares.  Except I do, because I want to belong to the place I call home.  It might seem like such a silly little care to have, especially since I have been embraced for the time being by such loveliness.

San Francisco, to me, is the beautiful, enthralling, emotionally-distant lover I know I will one day leave, all the while never regretting one second spent in love.

(This entry is part of one month of gratitude.)

3 thoughts on “grateful for san francisco

  1. What a beautiful post. I feel just like you do. I moved here almost two years ago and not a day goes by that I don’t appreciate something about this city. It’s not perfect (but what place is) but San Francisco has truly stolen my heart.

  2. It’s funny..I’m often envious of your posts about clubs and restraunts.
    As a parent and someone who does not know anyone who lives in the city that I could hang out with, I am a stranger to this city even though I work here and walk though it daily.

    I am an armchair san franciscan, and I love reading your posts and live vicariously though you as you visit clubs,concerts and restraunts.

    Keep posting!

  3. I think i understand a little of what you feel. I want to belong to scotland but I will never be from here. Everyone on meeting me asks where I live and the immediate next question / statement is “oh but your not from there – where do you come from”. A hard quation to answer, I have lived in scotland since I was 12, I will never be scottish.

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