Apparently, the theme of the month is me moving after 13 years of living in Toronto. I’ve been gradually packing and letting go of things since last summer, I feel an urge to commemorate the past, as they are flooding towards me. I'm not someone who usually looks through old photos, but when my sweet friends surprised me with an album of our memories together. Emotional, but with laughter. Very on-brand.
To leave a city where I first fell in love, where my sass levels reached their full potential, and where I met truly wonderful friends, I can only say I’ve been lucky in every possible way. Surprisingly, I’ve found myself without any strong emotions (unless someone starts tearing up around me—then I get awkward and try to cut it off quickly). Even when I had lunch with my best friend on the day of my departure, it didn’t feel like a goodbye—though I knew I’d see him again soon. I had planned to hug him and say thank you for everything, but I froze, completely forgot what I wanted to say, and just walked away. Later, I sent an email to express my gratitude. Anyway, I admit I don’t love being the center of attention or getting sentimental in public, but I swear I’ve appreciated every moment I’ve spent with my friends and the people I love!
I decided not to revisit the shops, restaurants, or parks I used to go to as part of the usual goodbye routine. Maybe letting the memories be is the better way—saving the freshness for future rendezvous. I did make one exception: a night walk through my neighborhood on my last evening in the city. My usual route—I’d walk to XO Gelato for a scoop of coffee gelato (always coffee), sometimes in a cone just for the aesthetic reason, even though I don’t actually like cones. Then I’d stroll five minutes down to the park to watch the sunset and tennis rally. It always washed off the mood of a long day.
Disappearing or leaving without saying goodbye would’ve been classic me. Most of the time, even when I really want to hug a friend or have rehearsed the whole scene in my head multiple times, I still freeze when the moment actually comes—no proper send-off, just awkward silence. I’m sure you’ve experienced that too: lying in bed later, replaying the scene, and thinking, “It would’ve been nice if I’d hugged them a little tighter.”
Maybe leaving home and my parents at a young age really messed with how I respond to departures. Back then, saying goodbye at the airport meant holding back tears, suppressing the sadness, and walking away without looking back. By my late twenties, I’d already trained myself out of the butterflies—I knew exactly how to flip the switch and shift into my normal, independent mode. I guess that was the coping mechanism I built over the years. Now, I just don’t feel much anymore. Honestly, I usually feel way better when no one drops me off at the airport—just give me an Uber driver who kindly unloads my luggage onto a trolley, and that’s the kind of safe, no-fuss blessing I prefer. (Which, of course, was a lie—I was actually dropped off by a friend/colleague. And thank god he walked in with me, because I ended up in a surprise overweight-luggage-and-reshuffle situation at the airport.)
Anyway, forget all the cold-hearted comments, it actually turned out to be the perfect way to slowly prepare everyone and say goodbye properly. Vanessa, on the other hand, has probably had enough of saying goodbye to me, only to see me again and again the next evening… and inherit more of my stuff. I’ve seen her more than anyone in the past two months, and I’m honestly proud to see her wearing my clothes and using furniture that has my stamp all over it.
Last night of my departure, when she came by, she was eyeing the jeans I haven’t shut up about. I mentioned I was thinking of getting rid of them, and she immediately said, “If that’s the case, can you take them off right now? I’ll take them.” Obviously, I went upstairs and took the jeans off for her.
Back to the fashion goodbye—honestly, the only shop I’ll truly miss is my optical shop. I have ten years of stories with them, and it’s always felt like home whenever I stop by to try things on. They’ve been in the Yorkville area for maybe 20 years, if not more, and the owner, Kassim, is the sweetest gentleman. I recently went to pick up this year’s glasses and had a little moment—realizing how long I’ve been coming there, and how much my taste in eyewear has evolved over time.
I can’t wait to share more insights about life in China—the fashion, the food, and everything in between. Already feeling like a princess reunited with my family. Maybe there’s some wisdom in keeping a bit of distance from the things you love—it gives you space to grow and see life from a fresh perspective.
Ciao, Talk soon!
Excellent and such a lovely end to an era. I’d also like to iterate I POLITELY requested you strip of your jeans 😂
Gosh this made me tear up a bit… 💛 Well done!