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DC IMPROPER

The Love-Hate Conundrum

2/12/2015

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I have been in a relationship for about eight months. My Valentine in 2015 is the District of Columbia. 

I was infatuated at first, thinking it was pure bliss. Now, honestly, it's evolved into more of a love-hate thing.

Two summers ago, when I interned here, I remember being on the rooftop of the W Hotel overlooking the city. I wanted it to be mine in a very 'House of Cards' way. A year and a half later, I am not so sure I feel the same.

I came here both last summer and after graduation with the hope of reinventing myself as a confident, intellectual, sociable sort of person — one who goes to networking happy hours and hob-knobs with the likes of Hill staffers, lawyers, and contractors. Inside somewhere, however, will always be that girl who worries that she isn't smart or skilled enough to keep up. But that's a story for another day.

DC is incredible in that every aspect of it motivates me aspire to greatness. It's hard not to when you see the things that happen here every day.

There is something stirring about the marble-everything, wandering through the National Mall, hearing my polished heels click on the floor of any government building … it comes with a feeling of pride. 

It hits me. I'm 23, and I'm living and working in the capital of the most powerful country in the world.

But even my wrinkleless black dress pants, blazer, and blouse can't keep out the chill I feel. Maybe it's just the winter talking, but I can't help wondering if DC hasn't made me colder.

The only way to really describe how I feel would be to say that DC brings out the worst sort of best in me.

Here, unlike anywhere else, I am competitive and maybe even opportunistic. While some might argue that it's the reason I was able to leverage not one but three jobs out of this city in my eight months here, there is something I resent about that.

I feel sometimes as though I've lost my sense of loyalty or human decency. My will to get ahead has trumped almost everything else. And while I can't deny that I feel victorious sometimes, it doesn't mean I am always proud of how I achieved success.

When I left for college, I wanted to be a writer unencumbered by expectations and bias. Now, I'm moving into the world of public affairs, and while I'm excited that there is writing involved, it's certainly not going to be unfettered. I just worry sometimes that I've allowed myself to be changed by the rapacity that comes with living in a city that thrives on pissing contests and ladder-climbing. 

There are some days where I'm not sure I recognize myself. On those days, I consider what it might be like to give all this up and run back to New York or try somewhere like Chicago, or San Francisco, or London. Maybe I could write a novel or go to school for something else entirely. 
But that's rash. I'm being silly. I came to DC for a reason.

This city was exciting because it seemed to have endless opportunities, and I certainly couldn't have asked for better friends than those I have made here. But I wonder if I can live in DC for long without hating myself for how I'm choosing to survive.

I love DC for the same reasons I seemingly hate it, but I'm going to try not to flirt with other cities. I'm committed to making it work for now, love or hate.

-Sarah
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