“There’s nowhere else like London. Nothing at all, anywhere.” – Vivienne Westwood

As long as I remember, I always had the idea to move to a big city. It started with New York, when I was 7 years old, and my dream lasted through all the years of elementary school. This phase was probably a consequence of me watching too many movies happening in The Big Apple. Have any of you heard of "Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen"? It used to be my number one pick, and I was dreaming that maybe one day I could be living this fabulous New York

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life; living in a penthouse on Fifth Avenue, having breakfast at Tiffany’s, and scattering my ashes at Bergdorf Goodman #delusional. After visiting the city a couple of times, I thought that it was maybe a bit too touristic for me, but I still enjoy NYC classics such as Sex and The City, the New Year’s Eve special on television, and of course the semi-annual MBFW. A while after, I said to my parents that I would like to move to Paris one day, and work in fashion. I clearly remember them saying that the flats were pretty expensive in Paris, and that I had plenty of time to change my mind. This "Paris" stage was the shortest. 

At the beginning of my high school years, I announced to my parents that at the age of 16, I was going to spend a summer or maybe a year in London to improve my English. Five days after my 16

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birthday, it happened… but only for a summer, and I felt in love with the city. Being there by myself was the most wonderful experience. I learned so many things from every aspects of life, and also got to build some awesome friendships. When I got back to my hometown, it really felt like something was missing... I did not feel like myself here. Unfortunately, going back to London for college was just unimaginable for many reasons, one of them being this fierce competition between students, and obviously my grades were not allowing me to stand out. After that, I started to think that maybe it was a sign that I should just try another city, and a few Australian cities came to my mind, but... my heart was and is still in London. 

After two years I am still experiencing the withdrawal symptoms of leaving a place I love. The thing is, when I was there, I lived as a true local while still doing some touristic stuff. I was waking up everyday in the same bed, taking the tube, going to school, and enjoying what the city had to offer. 

A few weeks ago, I announced to my family that as soon as I would graduate from University, I would be moving to London, whatever it would take, even if it were just for a few years. I looked at possible visas, and my mom even caught me looking at spare rooms and flats to rent (but of course it was just to give me a general idea, I am not moving in the next few weeks). I envisioned myself living in some of the neighbourhoods that caught my attention during my previous visit like Notting Hill, South Kensington, Knightsbridge or Sloane Square. Being in London would also give me more opportunities in the work area that I am targeting for the future. I made so many researches and the possibilities would be endless compare to what is offered here for this kind of job. But it is not only for the job, this is my home away from home, and my heart belongs there.

Explaining my motives for wanting to move is almost impossible, it feels like it is an intense pulse, and that I need to do it. Love. S. 

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