The Hawthorne Bridge

I have a friend who is writing this book about how her identity is wrapped up in her city. She has chapters on volcanos, strip clubs, and several other things that makes Portland tick. I have always loved this idea, but I didn't fully understand what she was getting at until this last trip to Portland.

I was walking from my mom's condo in downtown to brunch at a friend's house in Southeast. I was sublimely content for I was walking to see my friends, it was a beautiful day, and I was stealing some time to myself. As I stepped onto the Hawthorne Bridge I stopped and looked around me - at the bridge I was standing on, the bridges down the river, the skyline of downtown and SE - and I felt the warmth of the morning summer sun and realized for the first time that this city is a reflection of me. It is not just that I like it, or that it is my home, but that this city encompasses the girl I used to be and the woman I will become.

If someone were to ask me to explain who I am at the core, all I really need to say is "go stand halfway across the Hawthorne bridge and look, listen, and feel what is around you. That is who I am. What I feel and think." Timing makes no difference - sun, rain, day, or night are only reflections of my emotions and personality. Each gust of wind that meets the bridge meets me as well.

They (who's they? In this case, I'm not sure) say that when you get married your partner is a reflection of who you are. And while I don't believe you have to married to have this be the case, I do think it is true. The best parts of me are reflected in Greg and he makes me a better person. But there is something else too, something about that spot on the bridge that urges me to be a better person and to explore my life and world. I feel free there in the same way that loving Greg makes me feel. Like the support of the love I give and recieve will carry me to be the person I strive to be. This city in this tiny part of the world allows me to be who I am and continually pushes me to develop.

Can I be the best version of myself somewhere else, even Anchorage? I have to believe I can. But it is a struggle, just like it was a struggle to be away from Greg for all those months. As I walked across the bridge there was no struggle, only a gentle breeze pushing me toward fulfillment.