By now, I think the whole universe already knows about my love for Rome. After all these years, numerous visits, it just grows. I still haven’t found a real answer to the never ending inquiries “why Rome?”. Usually my answer is simple, Rome is my happy place. But why?

In one of the hardest summers I remember, Rome was there for me. It was right after high school, my parents were in the middle of a divorce, I flunked my last exam and I was in love with a boy that bluntly told me he doesn’t care. On my way to the airport, I was holding back the tears, mainly caused by a boy, but also because I knew life will never be the same when I’ll return and partly also because I was terrified. After all, it was my first proper alone trip. I was miserable but at the same time so happy to have the opportunity to escape it all. 

What I found in Rome could only be described as magic. After I finally cried my eyes out at the Roman airport, all the misery stopped at once. In my little Roman room, I found all the comfort I was seeking. The city brought me back and the same relief still kicks in every time I visit.

I guess you could say Rome was my first trip to the real world. The first time I was thrown in a new environment that was completely out of my comfort zone. It all played out so well that I can now call it my second home. 🖤