cape town girl in new york

How I Met Your Father: the one where I fell in love with New York for the third time

It was a cold November night and I was wandering through Times Square, having just sobbed my eyes out at a spectacular performance of the hit Broadway show Dear Evan Hansen…

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Reader warning: this is a deeply personal post so please stop reading if you don't want to catch feelings… Have you ever walked out of a theatre show with eyes so puffy from crying and a heart both so light from finally being seen and yet so deeply touched that you are emotionally f***ing spent? That's how I feel/felt about @dearevanhansen on Thursday 😭 I was Evan in high school… f***,I was Evan last week. I've vibrated at a different frequency all of my life and I still spend every single godamn day trying to be normal,to engage with people like I should. Last week,it took every single ounce of my limited energy to get out of bed,go to work,be a passable good co-worker,daughter,sister,niece,cousin,godmother and friend and not let anyone see how bad the darkness was… I sobbed uncontrollably from the beginning of #dearevanhansen and really ugly cried for the final song and scene because it hit so close to home… it's like the writers and cast took what was inside of me and put it on stage. Evan's mom in So Big/So Small and her promise to be there whenever she needs him …for me that person is my best friend Lutfia. I don't always reach out when the darkness gets bad because I try to "get over it" by myself (it's wrapped up in my control issues and i am trying to get better at asking for help).When I do let her in, Lutfia helps to make all of my overwhelmingly big anxieties small enough for two to manage and I am so very thankful to and for her❤ Much has been said about this show's production quality and really,it is f***ing outstanding but for me,its true strength is its emotional relevance. Dear Evan Hansen was a two year must-see Broadway dream in the making for me and I am so utterly glad I got to see it. #youwillbefound

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I stopped, twirled around in a circle and took in my surroundings. Still feeling emotional after my sobfest and raw in a way I hadn’t been for years , I had a profound realization.

I was home. Home once again and I was impossibly, utterly, deeply in love with New York City.

For the third time.

This trip, my first one to New York shared with someone I loved, your godmom Leonie, was hands down my best. I loved solo travel, and I would soon venture off on another trip by myself, but a shared experience brought with it a sense of happiness, comedic moments of getting lost, frustation at losing each other at busy events, transcendent moments at a magical theatre show unlike any other we’d seen, discovering new places and showing each other our favourite spots.

Sharing New York with someone who adored it as much as I do, possibly even more so, made me love it on a deeper level.

Even if I never returned to the Big Apple in my life (Gods, I hope not! I still wanted to live my best upcoming writer and Brooklyn-living mom life there!), I was content to have loved this beautiful city and be a part of it at least thrice in my life.

To have arrived and known I was home.

I love you, New York City. Always.

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