Beacon Hill Staycation at The Whitney Hotel

Interestingly enough, my life in Boston began at this hotel. I had just gotten back from a trip to Portland, Maine and I needed a bite to eat. I stumbled upon The Whitney Hotel and ordered lunch in their courtyard out back.

Halfway through my lunch (I was eating some of the best shrimp of my life), I was greeted by a leasing manager, who had in his possession, the keys to my new apartment.

I shook his hand and he handed me the keys. I remember holding them in the palm of my hand and squeezing them tight. Looking down at the gold and the silver. Not knowing what would come of Boston. Or the people I would meet… or the home I would make here. It was all just a dream back then…a vision in my imagination.

And now, all these months later, I’m here with Hillary after everything that’s happened… and it feels surreal. It makes me think of our desire for certainty, how we’re always looking for that ‘definite reason’ to do something. But the reasons aren't always there. We can’t always find them. The intuitive urge to act must be reason enough. And sometimes, we're better not to question it. Moving to Boston was the best thing I ever did for myself. I’m so glad I didn’t need a ‘reason.’