Thelma and Louise. The End.

It has been 11 months since Clara and I packed our bags and embarked on an adventure that was to change our lives. Because it is my blog, I will reflect back on my emotions through my images of New York.

One of the things I loved most about NYC (and especially Manhattan) is the peaceful chaos.

11 months ago I had just finished my undergraduate degree. 11 months ago I thought I could never be as happy. 11 months ago.

11 months I was not scared. 11 months ago I thought I had all that I needed. 11 months ago I had lost all ambition and I was living without growing.

I realise now that, 11 months ago I was miserable. 11 months ago.

New York was our last stop. The final travelling stage where we had the chance to embrace our new selves and our new identities. It was an intense visit, different to the other cities in that we were tired, we were sad and about to come back to London.

New York City was the perfect end to the most perfect summer I had (even with the not so happy events). I had the chance to get lost, to take it all in and get rid of all the negativity that had been poisoning me for such a long time. Now you might think that I am happy now, and everything is just better. Wrong. I’m filled with fear of the unknown and of what is next. But I have ambition. I have the drive. I am me, again.

When in February I went back to Manhattan, I was already feeling this change. Looking at New York through the steamy window of a yellow cab felt more like an erotic exercise as the city unfolded it’s secrets before my eyes and the wheels of the car. The cold chipped my lips and my cheeks and my eyelids, yet all the same I felt freer.