Honestly, where do I even start? It’s August 17th, 2024. I’m sitting on my living room couch about a week before I return to university to begin my junior year of college. Freshly 20 years old, coming off of a summer I’ll be telling my friends’ kids about. So many things, so many things. So many feelings I’m feeling. So many emotions to write about. I truly dreamt this summer up. That’s the best way I can think to describe it. If this summer proved anything to me, dreams don’t have to stay in your head.

To begin, I have to start in January. I was doing my New Year rituals. You know, 13 wishes, leaving and taking lists, and a vision board. As I type this, I realize I may have to start with last summer, actually. I remember being home and working at Aeropostale and Van’s at the same time and casually saying “Next summer I won’t be home” as if it were a fact. I can look back at my life and recognize this as something I’ve always done. I’ve always been very particular about words, and the power of the tongue because I fully believe you can speak anything to existence. And this summer was one of those things that my tongue alchemized.

Anyway, for this year’s vision board, I decided to go with words, instead of pictures, you know, being a writer. I had a tile that read “I secured my dream internship in fashion.” And that is exactly what I did. Throughout the entire process, I can honestly say I did not know how it would happen, but that it was. Everything was going to work itself out because it always does. And too, it did, but not magically. I simply cannot let this piece get any further without thanking my family. They are the reason I was able to live in this experience. They are the reason I was able to walk so comfortably in it. I can’t thank them enough. From beginning, to middle, to end, they were there. I realized just how much they believe in me, and how blessed I am to have that. I mean, they really believe in me. And while I’m confident about my place in this world I have to say in a slight way it surprised me, because I don’t remember doing anything to earn it. They helped me without hesitation. It makes me feel so rich. If you’re reading this, thank you, I love you, and I will make you proud. I promise. All of you.

When I arrived in May in the city of Chicago it immediately felt like home, as cliche as it may sound. I love the buzz of the city; I could feel it inside of me. It felt like a place I belonged. Unironically, I was most excited to use the crosswalks and have my Devil Wears Prada moment. Looking up at the tall, foggy buildings, everyone around me has somewhere to be and something on their mind. Did they know I was new here? Could they tell I was working in fashion? Should I stop and take a picture of these buildings, or will I look too much like a tourist? A gorilla grip on the pop socket of my phone because my aunt passively told me to be careful with it as I was walking out the door. There was no one taking candids of me on the street, but if there was, I imagine I would look so wide-eyed you’d think I was acting. It was unlike anything I had felt before. I was excited, so excited.

I remember a time I was working (and also just attending) an event one of my supervisors was holding. It was one of those nights that felt like a scene written just for me. It felt perfect. I was in a room of people who worked in places and did things I want to do one day. It felt like one of those rooms people talked about belonging in. I was talking to people, gathering information, sharing information, and breathing. I was sat on a bench, wallowing in the moment (and probably scrolling Instagram) when my supervisor asked me “How has it been for you, being here? I hope you’re getting something out of it.” And I have to say this is one moment I did not see coming, but suddenly my eyes welled up. I cried, on that bench, and told him how much it means to me, how just being here is “crazy”, and “I’m literally living in a manifestation. I’m here. I did it.” I gathered myself, then went into the bathroom called my mom, and cried some more, as one does. That night is one I will never forget. It felt like the reason I had “concocted this entire plan” to begin with, a line my mother had said at me at a time when tensions were high for both of us about the whole thing. I almost hate to use a word so simple, but it felt good. I felt good. 

I’d love to say I loved it the whole time, but I didn’t. There were times I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. Like, the reality of the experience is not in line with the glamour I had imagined. I had fallen into a routine with the actual work aspect of the internship, and sometimes, it wasn’t fun anymore. I’ve learned myself enough to know how to pull myself out of a rut and force myself to smell the roses again, though. So, while these feelings were temporary, I’m grateful I felt them. This summer I learned far more than I expected. It helps to mention, that I often forget that I was alone here. I did have my family. However, exploring the city, and getting to and from work, I did mostly alone. I decided a summer ago that I would spend this summer alone in a big city I’d never been to before. I did that. And before I knew I had a family to catch me, I was fully prepared to do it completely alone. When written out in front of me it sounds insane. But, I’m not done. This was simply the first of many steps I will take to create the life of wildest imaginations.

I was writing during this time, too, a lot. My notes app is filled with gems I have yet to even look through. A quote, “I’m at home. I can feel the doors opening and the echoes of my name in the air of spaces that will change my life.” Also, funnily, I found myself eating all the desserts I could find during my time in Chicago. More so than I ever had. I want to throw a corny line about how my appetite for sweeter things grew as my life got sweeter. In truth, my life this year has felt like I’ve had honey on my tongue. Everything speaks to me a little more sweetly.

Chicago is a truly beautiful city. I didn’t know much about it before I arrived, but it’s a city I could see myself calling home. The energy I felt there was immaculately vibrant. It’s true when they call it the city of neighborhoods. I would take the train just a few minutes over to a different town, and it felt like an entirely new place. It all beats with the same heart, though. It has its bad sides, I’m sure of it, just as every city does. But Chicago was kind to me. I loved it. Culture melts into every corner in that city, the streets are pulsating with it. I can’t wait to go back, a little older and tougher, and experience more of the nightlife there. I can’t go any longer without emphasizing how my supervisors were the coolest. They poured into me and made me feel wanted and important. They are great people, and I learned a lot from them. So, if you two are reading this thank you so much for embracing me. I love your city, your kindness did more for me than you know, and I wish for you the open arms you’ll need to embrace the success I know is coming for you. 

As the plane drives slowly around the taxiway, the vague cityscape peering through the distance it all began to settle within me. I have truly, wholly, loved my time in this city. I’m still in small disbelief that I made it. I’m not sad to be leaving. I feel satisfied with the time that I had here, completely. It was … crazy.