Happy Anniversary, Washington, D.C., You Beautiful, Hot Mess

Dear DC, 

You are one big, beautiful hot mess, filled with a naïve ambition to take over the world—or your people are. You aren't shy to have a debate during happy hour or at brunch. Your identity matches no other city in the world. You are:

Hard but soft.

Fun but strict.

Fast but slow.

Powerful yet powerless.

You are the city I fell in love with when I was 20, and when I was 25, I made you my home. After my 25th birthday, I was in a car accident amongst two other cars the night before I moved back to DC, thanks to a random truck axle on a dark road. I didn’t know how I was going to move without a car, and I had no money.

But it worked out. You’ve remained my home for ten years now.

It always does . . . in a strange, magical way.

You have that way about you. Everything always works out at the last possible second. Maybe that’s why Congress likes to wait until the last possible second to get shit done.

I was finally working for the government, my dream. Finally, I could shut up about yearning to work and live here. Everyone was happy I left so they wouldn’t hear about my dream anymore. Even if they lowballed my salary, forcing me to work part-time on top of it to make ends meet.

Despite being poor,  I felt rich walking and running the streets of DC with a big cheesy smile, passing the White House and the monuments. I was such a naive 25-year-old, but not because I wasn’t aware of the world. It was more of a schoolgirl crush I had on this city. Especially when I had to go to the State Department or an Embassy for work, that same cheesy smile came to my face. I wanted to be that girl—that girl to change the world—a girl to make a difference. A girl, people would say, knows what she is doing.

I always describe DC as being like New York; it's a dog-eat-dog city here, but worse because everyone and their mother is trying to up everyone and hold the most powerful seat in the nation.

I fought hard to return to the world’s most powerful city because I knew long before I came here that I was supposed to be here.

And many people in my life thought I didn’t belong in this city because of the cards life dealt me. From a learning disability, speech impediment, growing up on welfare . . . you name it. I was the girl of red flags, and they’d think, “Why would she belong here?”

Thankfully, I had my own back.

I made it.

I fucking made it.

DC, you made me into the woman I am today. You took a naïve girl who wanted to change the world while people took advantage of her and built her into a strong, mostly-confident woman. You made me push through self-created limits. You kicked my ass many times yet placed a mat under me to minimize the bruising.

You had my back, and I know you are proud of me. 

In the past ten years, you have brought many experiences into my life, like searching for my first apartment and ending up living with two guys from Italy and Greece.

You even gave me my first date in the city, which led to a kiss and me sprinting down the steps to catch the metro back home. DC, I remember that night I texted my then-best friend about this, and he said, "You are dating the city."

I couldn't agree more. I was genuinely dating the city. Like real dating, it was good, bad, adventurous, and crazy.

Cheers to the million happy hours, watching Marine One fly around the city, running with the Marines, briefing the White House, falling in love for the first time, heartbreaks, traveling, finding myself, 4th of July celebrations, flying up in the sky with aerial arts, grounding me back to earth alongside my yoga family …

I can’t believe it’s been ten years; it feels like I was getting off the metro at L’Enfant Plaza only yesterday, walking in the July heat to my first office and not knowing what the hell I was doing. Now, I’m walking into my next chapter in life. I always say that I swear I have lived 100 lives here in the last ten years.

We have surely lived those lives together, from watching my favorite spots close down over the years to seeing how your streets and neighborhoods have changed over time.

Just like I have changed over the last ten years, so have you, from different presidents, policies, and an insurrection to the pandemic, people, and restaurants.

The good and bad.

I know I haven't been your biggest fan for the last few years, and I am not referring to politics (though I haven’t been that impressed for a while now). I say I want to move away to live a Coloradan life, and I still do.

But I want to thank you for providing a life I could never imagine, letting me it with people I never thought I would, and making me a little more sure of myself.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

As I was writing this, I heard the most accurate description of you.

“It’s DC.”

Two words, but two powerful words, sum up you and my life here.

Happy 10-year anniversary to you, DC, my longest relationship ever.

Love,

Wandering Bel