Rewrite History.

Every city I frequent or once frequented holds memories of those I shared those times with. Arlington will always remind me of my best friend: our morning trips to Chick Fil A for a breakfast date before I dropped her off at work and went back to bumming it in her unbelievably comfy bed (still the best bed I've ever slept in), being introduced to new faces as she blends her worlds over endless drinks in Clarendon, and brief stops to her house before jetting back to NYC. Chick Fil A dates at Ballston Mall are still a tradition of ours. Norfolk will always remind me of my college boyfriend and our nights filled with debauchery and morning-afters filled with planning beach trips. Driving through Maryland reminds me of the times a former friend and I shared as I stopped through on my way to DC. The list of cities and memories is endless, and even when friendships and relationships terminate, as much as we'd like to, you can't erase fact, experience, history.

For months, though, DC has been a tricky one. Though my college boyfriend and I frequented DC, dating a DC native brings about a gamut of experiences that only a native can provide. And having other friends that live in the area, it was a little more difficult to enjoy nights out as we inconveniently passed restaurants and venues he and I once frequented. I always wondered when or if I'd ever be able to create new memories in a city that wreaked of him. I seriously doubted that it'd ever happen. This weekend, however, I felt something monumental.

As I ride up I-95 back to NYC, I'm overwhelmed with joy and more inspired than I've ever been. This morning, my friends and I stood at the national mall and watched President Obama take oath for his 2nd term in office. I listened to him deliver a speech so moving that he continues to hold his ranking as one of the greatest orators I've ever had the pleasure of hearing. Tears welled in my eyes as I witnessed dignitaries like Joe Biden, Bill Clinton, and the Obamas gaze in amazement while my church's choir performed. I've never been prouder to attend Brooklyn Tabernacle. While standing there, though, I thought about the last time I was on the national mall, and while I'll always remember the late night stroll with my ex, Obama's inauguration leaves a gigantic footprint in my memory bank. I've never felt such pride in my race, my country, and in my decision to witness it up close instead of in the comfort of my own home. Now, when I think of DC, I'll remember the day I stood and witnessed history. I'll remember the day I got inspired to go back to NYC and take on my new leadership role with utmost confidence in my abilities, just as President Obama did and will continue to do for the next four years.

I've slowly learned to not become bitter when memories flood my mind of times I shared with people who are no longer in my life. No longer do I only appreciate memories made with my closest friends as I visit their cities. Whether the relationship currently exists or not, everything we did, every place we went, every joke we told, and every memory made was exactly what I wanted at that point in time, and I can't go through life wishing it would magically disappear from my mind's register. Enjoy the memory for what it is or was at that time, and move on. And if you don't want to remember it, don't grow bitter. Simply rewrite history. That's exactly what I did.