DEAR NEW YORK,

I’ve heard a lot about you. I’ve seen you before in all the movies I’d grown up with and all the news I’ve been told of. Apparently everything happens with you, and everyone in the world wants to be with you.

I first met you as a 12-year-old tourist. You impressed me then, but only because of the Disney shows I remember you in. Beyond Waverly Place and the Suite Life, you were just a combination of syllables with numbered/coloured subway symbols and mustard yellow taxi cabs.

Now, we meet again. I am now 22-turning-23 and I live with you. Well, I’m still figuring out how to live with you (and with myself, too). I left the only city that made me know what home is supposed to feel like (MONTREAL), to be here with you: with your big name and your big dreams.

Dear New York, here are my letters to you. Let me try to understand you while I try to understand myself, too.

Signed, R (1 of the 8,850,001)

r circa 2012 (1 of 52,000,001 tourists)

Subscribe if you’d like these stories. If this isn't enough, find me at rashalama.com and tell me how much the median rent is in your city.

Subscribe to DEAR NEW YORK

letters to this city from a homesick writer who expects a lot from this city — and herself.

People

Rasha Lama
i write DEAR NEW YORK because i moved here. it started with MEMOIRS OF MONTREAL, what became 12 stories during my final months at home, when i lived there.