How The City I Loved Fell Out Of Love With Me
Toronto, do you really want to hurt me?
When I left Toronto in the summer of 2019, I wasn’t out of love.
It was out of love with me.
After months looking for a place to live, I came up short, frustrated, and displaced, convinced the city was tossing me out.
- Toronto (read: my landlord who somehow had the audacity to up our rent by $1100 CAD) evicted me from the best apartment in Trinity-Bellwoods
- It denied me from a dream home in Leslieville citing the landlord’s search for an “executive tenant”
- It looked at my self-employed status and said, “not good enough”
In the code of Toronto, I didn’t fit the bill.
Double income no kids, a partner you can stand to share 600 sq ft with. This is mandatory for affording an apartment fit for a grown-up 30-year-old.
And that’s what I wanted.
A space I felt comfortable to host loved ones.
To make them dinner; to not have to ask permission of roommates.
To not have to invite them either.
And not have neighbours texting me to quiet down.
I wanted a space of my own.
I wanted a space to be free, relaxed, and peaceful.
I wanted that in Toronto.
And that was my first mistake.
Toronto, my expensive, wonderful home.
When I left the city to move to Edmonton, I didn’t know what I was doing.
Didn’t have a damn clue.
I wasn’t out of love, but it was out of love with me.
Dearest Toronto, my most profound toxic relationship.
My love for the city was one-sided.
Conditional.
And downright embarrassing for me.
Why spend years waiting for someone to take you to the next step?
I lived in Toronto for 6 beautiful years.
I could have continued the way I was.
With an acceptable, “stable” salaried job, a partner I didn’t question (read: wasn’t allowed to).
I wanted flexibility, freedom, and the ability to question my relationship without risking the roof above my head.
The more I live away the more I see — I want what my parents have.
A beautiful home near people they love, dinner parties, space, and freedom.
Peace.
But peace is expensive.
I moved to Edmonton chasing that opportunity.
I found the home.
I moved in with family.
I created new connections and I fell in love. While surviving a pandemic, no less.
But I can’t help thinking I found it all in the wrong place.
It’s not Toronto.
Most of my people are far away.
And here I am, spit in two.
Sometimes it feels good and I feel settled.
Then I remember the 4-hour plane ride between me and that place.
The place I never fell out of love with.
But fell out of love with me.
So, I’ll sit in this limbo and wonder if others sit in it, too.
I’ll wonder how they make sense of it.
I’ll wonder if the answer will one day descend on me. Making everything clear.
Or I’ll wonder, if limbo is the place I’ll end up calling home.
