I came back from NYC three weeks ago. NYC always speaks to me the language that is between us, the rhythm of the city, pulsing sounds, yellow cabs, local crazies, stuffy subway stations… I will sure be back.
This trip however was not only the perfection of "hi, so long, NYC". I have learned, finally discovered that I am a grown up woman, and there is no turning back.
Stormy skies on the day of my flight there, both in NYC and in Toronto. Delay, cancellation, rebooked for the next flight, delay again. How much longer? Cancelled for the night. You are likely to fly the following day. Unload luggage. Where is my suitcase? WHERE IS MY SUITCASE?
At this point, a previous immature me would burst into tears, throw a tantrum or three. And hell, I had never been in this situation before alone. Things were always taken care for me.
This time in, however, I was calm and composed, booked myself for the first flight to NYC for the following day, located my suitcase (THANKS GOODNESS), learned it was too expensive to stay in an airport hotel, turned around and went home, called cab for the following early morning. Everything organized. No panic. Things happen. Breathe in and out.
The difficulty of being an adult is there is no somebody will take care of it. I have to make decisions, and I will be held responsible. The beauty of being an adult is that these are my decisions, my emotions and my life, and I have a say in them. ALL.