Find a man that looks at you like Faf De Klerk looks at the Rugby World Cup, they say. Or other equally relevant comparisons. I have often thought about what I want to be to whoever loves me. I believe you can see it in someone's face, if you're loved or not. I've seen the look twice, maybe I gave a look back. When I looked at London from seat 34F on British Airways flight 993 yesterday, I realized I was giving the city the look: my eyes felt watery because it was so beautiful, I felt a sense of coming home and recognized small things from the distance that other people in the other seats ending with F wouldn't be able to see. And then it dawned on me: I'm looking for London; I'm looking for a man that makes me feel like London does.
If London was a man, I'd marry him. I've said it a million times. London has always been my favourite city and one year after finally moving here properly, I'm still in love. Just like real love, who knows how long that will last, but one could argue it's the single best relationship I've had. But let's get real into it: what does London have that I look for in a partner? I've dated plenty of good men, yet they were Cambridge, Hamburg or Rio de Janeiro: all wonderful places I definitely loved… but nothing when compared to London.
When I was on the plane, coming home from Berlin, I had the funniest sensation. I had taken off from Berlin thinking that I'm stupid to live in the UK. I can have Germany, for crying out loud. And Germany is hands down the better country. It's a great fit for me: people laugh about the same things as me, they know all the shows I watched as a kid and they recycle like madmen. It's a great match - on paper. Most people fancy it. But then you see London. The plane flies over Victoria Park first and you remember how you sat there in the summer in a bikini with your friend, drinking beer and eating strawberries. You see a green dot that is the building you work in. And you see the exact running course you used to take between Holland Park and Kensington Gardens. In short, you are coming home, to familiarity. And that's exactly the feeling Berlin, or any of the other men, I mean cities, can't give me.
And all the other cities are great, too. I find it hard to imagine that I will only love one man for the rest of my life once I've found one. There will be other men that tickle the fancy. But there is only one London. I walked around Hamburg this year and sincerely attempted to picture life there. It's a very easy thought: it's a great city, with more affordable housing, with a much better quality of life. I also returned to Scotland and looked at the amazing life people live up in the Highlands, how they have what I crave so much: peace, tranquility and the ability to have a dog. So if we're honest to ourselves, there will always be other cities. And men. There will always be the possibility of starting fresh with someone new, someone different. But if you have found London, the others just don't compare.
It's precisely this notion that makes me realize what makes London such a good partner: yes, I want freedom, the outdoors and a dog, but what I want most right now is opportunity, excitement and the ability to grow and expand culturally, personally, professionally. London lets me do that. It gives me a deck of cards I can use to become the person I want to be, doesn't limit me or direct me. If it's not achievable here, it's not achievable anywhere. A partner should do exactly that, no? Enhance your life, not change it, lend support for all the things you want to achieve. And if things go wrong, help you steer the wheel towards a new idea. I've not met, or loved, a person or place other than London that has given that comfort. But ultimately, that's the goal: not do it all alone, but together.
The last couple of years, dating a handful of pretty great men, I also found a pretty great fault in myself. I am one hundred percent not myself to anyone I've known less than ten years, never mind who I just met. It's not like I'm faking it, but I just take a long, long time to trust anyone. This ends up manifesting in me being nice enough but ultimately not the person I'd be if I was laying it all out there. Only the right person would get that pleasure, which probably isn't always a pleasure but more often than not. London, however, let's anyone be who they want to be. It makes me feel comfortable to walk past a goth gay couple, covered in tattoos from head to toe, making out in the middle of the street. In London, they feel accepted enough to be whoever they want to be. That's inspiring, and the pursuit of a relationship I'd want to be in, away from judgement or caution. Anyone uncomfortable in Hackney can try Clapham, anyone hating Whitechapel can flee to the white haven of Hammersmith. There's literally room for everyone.
So London gives me comfort, it excites me, it's helping me grow, allows me to be myself and makes me forget all the others, but the biggest reason, well, is really the difference between love and like: I feel lucky every day to be here. I have enough in my life to make it in London, the greatest city in the world. I am one of millions of people, yet feel like I am winning the lottery. Everyone else's love story with London doesn't take away from mine and I feel London smiling at me, and me only, when I walk through the Heath. I'm aware of my privilege to call a place my home that can make me feel all this. Just like finding the love of your life, that's not a thing that happens in everyone's journey. I've not done anything to deserve this, but still receive it. And that's the feeling I am looking for in a person, too: feeling lucky to have found them. Who can explain these things? They don't seem to make much sense. But ultimately, they make us happy and whole most of the time. Like I chose London, I'd like to choose a person to look at with those eyes. But not everyone is London…
