On finding pieces of myself or an apology to the places I’ve called home

I’ve gotten used to constantly moving from one city to another. Some leave me with beautiful memories, but I tend to focus more on the bad experiences. I end up hating the cities I live in and wishing never to return. That was how it used to be—until recently.

I returned to Munich after many years, and the first thing I felt was nostalgia. Walking through the same streets I had when I first arrived from Mexico brought back a flood of memories. I reflected on everything that had happened and how those experiences shaped me. Munich will always be my home, a place where I have people I can always rely on. One of many homes.

Hamburg, on the other hand, was harder for me to process. It’s a beautiful city, but sadly, I was surrounded by the wrong people. There were many problems, fights, and tough moments that followed me all the way to Austria. Yet today, I can say I’ve never felt more at peace or in the right place than I do now.

I didn’t end up in Hamburg by coincidence. In Hamburg, I listened to beautiful music. I learned about myself, about what I want, about the people I want close to me—and those I don’t. I was excited when I first arrived. I walked along the port, through the city, I found happiness in those moments. Hamburg will always be a part of me. It’s a city so grand yet undeserving of being blamed for my struggles.

It was in Hamburg where I first tried prepared piano. Today, I’m just a month away from performing several pieces at a contemporary music festival. That discovery led to more visits to the hardware store than I ever would have imagined. I was happy. I am happy. And if I had known back then what was to come, I think I would have been happy too.

I’d love to visit Hamburg again someday, to see it through the same eyes with which I now see Munich. To stop associating my problems with the cities themselves. There will be more cities, more people, more memories.