Despite living in London, Sahir and I always talked about staying in a London hotel and making it a 'thing' we do once in a while. Especially as we're both lovers of the hotel life.

I was having a pretty rough fortnight in the lead up to this stay (I was trying to sleep train Cyrus who is six months old, and I was borderline breakdown-crying shattered). I share this because I entered a very complex indecisive temperament of kind of still wanting to stay the night, and then kind of really not wanting to. As such, nothing was premeditated and that's precisely why those 24hrs ended up being so perfect as everything unexpectedly aligned: from the gorgeous London weather, having the best cup of coffee, lush walks around Borough Market and front row seats of London’s skyline from Shangri-La at The Shard. 

I know I'm not the only one who is a lover of city views from great heights. The rooftop bar craze is an indication of just how much we all love being immersed within a vibe.

And this is just it; my stay with this view meant something deeper to me than the often glamorised perception of hotel life from great heights.  

I'm a very emotional woman. I know most women are, but I won't be surprised if I fall within the crème de la crème category of emotional women. I have a plethora of nuanced feelings all of which fluctuate regularly and I feel very intensely. Furthemore, my sensitivity is heightened by my environment; I can feel the atmosphere change, people's moods fluctuate and sense what's truly meant even though it's not being said. It's not magic but intuition. Might as well be the same thing. But we all have this inner knowing.

And so sometimes when looking over a cosmopolitan skyline, brings an unusual kind of emptiness; you can feel connected to the buzz of the city because you're right in the middle of it, and yet you're still yearning for a feeling, a connection. Cities have a beautiful way of making the best of us feel paradoxical; alone and in company at the same time. 

When I was younger the city's skyline used to make me yearn for more. As a woman it makes me feel nostalgic…of the times when I did yearn for more. 

I think I've mastered how to live. I know that sounds pretentious but I very much feel I've 'arrived'; emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually. What this really means is that I've come home to myself. Although that doesn’t by any means imply I’m on the right track with things. But instead I know when and where I’m not.

So the city lights make me feel nostalgic of the times when I thought there was some kind of destination to arrive at, back when everything was still uncertain and I was naive…yet feisty.

What's perfect about London's skyline is that it's not so busy for you to lose yourself in. Nor is it so modest for it to feel it lacks ambition. And its peaks and troughs have a way of making you feel just high enough to be above the city whilst still being immersed within it. 

There's a sense of tranquility in seeing the lights, assuming there's noise and a buzz, and yet feeling none of that, feeling nothing but a stillness whilst you watch everything else in motion. 

And it truly does hit home that you indeed are not alone; all the other tiny moving dots have lives, problems, desires and aspirations, just like you. 

I've lived in London my whole life and can't work out if I'm ready to move on, or am desiring to run towards something else, and whether that something else is a genuine desire…or a projection from the byproduct of a life experience I've had in the past and still can’t shake off (I guess there are some things that never leave us).

Either way, I love the long nights and the city lights. It is why I love winter, the unfavourable of all seasons. Because at night anything seems possible. Any kind of magic can happen in the dark.