A native Southerner shares her memories of visiting Boston, describing what I most miss about my beloved city:
“No one cares what you are doing, where you are walking, how you are walking, what you are wearing, or why you are even there. Judgement seems to disappear. Everyone is dedicated to their own world and possesses no interest in invading another’s as a respect. It was a refreshing change from the over friendly, intrusive way of Southerners.”
I am not one to let news tragedies affect me and certainly not the ridiculous media coverage that accompanies them, but the Boston Marathon bombing really jarred me. I’ve never felt such hopelessness in humanity. I cried on and off the whole day. What you are about to read is a re-post from almost a year ago about my first experience with traveling out of the south as an adult. It’s about the city of Boston as a place that holds special importance to me. It is a place where I conquered multiple fears at once, where I ejected myself from my comfort zone, and where I took risks. It is just such a stunning place, and in light of recent events, I just want to share this piece again. Thanks for reading.
I attempt frugality. As well, I pride myself in my research abilities (most of the time). So, when looking…
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