I moved to London in the fall of 2013. I had been to the city before during my uni years and fell in love with it, making myself a promise that somehow, I’d go back one day and live there. Four years ago, I sold my car, quit my job, packed up my dog, and made good on that promise. I’ve never looked back.
London is not an easy city to live in. If you want a swift life lesson (read: kick in the pants), it will gladly oblige. It’s extremely expensive, crowded, noisy, and moves at a pace that took me by surprise even though I grew up in a city of 3 million people and had always been a ‘city slicker’. But I loved it, and stayed.
I fell in love with the city’s history, culture, and people. Yes, people. Londoners are nice, contrary to popular opinion. I’ve made friends here that are now a family away from home, and I met my partner here. After four years, I’ve settled in enough to feel like I belong in spite of my funny Canadian accent. Every time I come back to London, I feel at home when the plane wheels touch the tarmac. I’m so happy I came here to pursue my dreams, and I’m grateful for the phenomenal life the city has given back to me for taking that leap of faith.
But…I also happen to live very close to London Bridge and Borough Market. When the attack happened at Westminster Bridge, my family was concerned. When there was another attack in Manchester (even though it’s far from London), they worried. When London Bridge and Borough Market happened, it became alarm. As I write this, yet a fourth terrible attack has occurred in Finsbury Park, and the unfolding tragedy at Grenfell Tower has sent shock waves throughout the country.
"Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."
— Samuel Johnson