La Jolla Cove Ocean San Diego Sunset Golden Hour San Diego Magazine Love Letters Cole Novak
We asked locals to share their stories about finding love in the city—whether that be with a life partner, a fur baby, or themselves. These are their words, kicked off by our digital editor’s own love letter to SD.
SD Love Letters, Nicolle Monico
San Diego, I wasn’t sure I’d like you. You with your bright eyes, pink sunsets, and strangers waving hello. Me with my cynicism, whiskey neats, and Sylvia Plath quotes. It wasn’t love, not at first.I came here from the walkable streets of San Francisco—the Kerouac fostering, Dolores Park sitting, Golden Gate dreaming, cultural food mecca of the Bay. You? You were too… happy.At 25, you nurtured my career and watched as black-and-white bylines began to shape my story. We grew closer.Over the years, you taught me that high heels and the Gaslamp are rarely a good mix, but there’s nothing a Rocky’s burger and seaside cry can’t fix. That PB has an end date, open mics at Lestat’s are a rite of passage, and tacos taste better on the side of a Mexican road. I discovered that paddling out for the OB Fourth of July fireworks is scary as hell, but worth every ounce of tequila.I learned how to sail with your skyscrapers in the background, trained with 200-person run clubs for my first marathon, endured a f*cking pandemic, and found that I had fallen for you without even realizing it.Fourteen years later and here we are. Older, softer, brighter, waving at strangers.– Nicolle M., 39, Ocean Beach
Cassandra Escondido San Diego Magazine Love Letters
Dear San Diego,In my childhood and teens, you introduced me to Shamu, pandas at the zoo, and Jack Murphy Stadium. In my 20s, you introduced me to Red Bull vodka slushies by the beach, ’80s night in Hillcrest, and taco shops that stay open 24 hours.In my 30s, you introduced me to beach yoga, strong coffee, better restaurants, and a distillery where I met my soulmate. So far in my 40s, you’ve introduced me to movies on the sand at the Del, baby-friendly wineries, and a place where I can raise my beautiful family.Without you, I would not be the person I am today. Thank you for growing with me.Your lifelong friend,– Cassandra, 40, Escondido
Klara Cardiff San Diego Magazine Love Letters
My love for you, much like in other devoted relationships, has inspired me. It’s nurtured my growth and has regularly led me to question my life choices. I’m a Colorado transplant, so we’ve only been together for four years, but our love affair began long ago.I was three years old when my parents introduced us and I met the ocean for the first time. From there, I’d find my way back to you for adventure, for passion, for warmth, knowing full-well that you rivaled my beau at the time. So, I followed my heart and left that relationship behind me, packed the car, and have (almost) never looked back.It’s been a love-hate relationship, San Diego, mi amor. You haven’t been easy on me. Within the first two years of me moving here, you broke my heart, two bones, and two ligaments, and you have forced me into the world of spectatorship, pandering from the sidelines for you to love me. Now here I am, fulfilling my dreams. I love you and your beautiful, dry charm, San Diego, despite your merciless efforts to make me a better human.– Klara, 34, Cardiff
The Orange County bubble I grew up in was suffocating. But my best friend and I had a free period after lunch, so we’d drive down to Pacific Beach and savor breathing in different air.Juanita’s was our go-to stop for California burritos on the way down, and we would warm them in the sun and eat on the beach. It felt like we were on a grown-up vacation, even though we were only an hour from home, where the painfully cliché manicured lawns, cookie-cutter houses, and luxury cars concealed the danger inside.San Diego had a different ocean, its own sun, and brand-new sand—untainted by growing pains.At home, I was just a powerless kid. In San Diego, I was a whole person. A secret one-hour drive wasn’t the biggest teenage act of rebellion, but as an overly obedient child, it was enough for me to gain the confidence I needed to eventually escape my house.For many, PB is just Garnet and its line of bars and late-night eats, but my quiet neighborhood here is my safe haven.– Brandee, 32, Pacific Beach
Nicolas Chula Vista San Diego Magazine Love Letters
My only real travel tradition is having a burrito before I leave San Diego, and having a burrito first thing when I get back. What is life but a burrito? The people I love, the things I enjoy, the experiences I’ve had, they’re the filling—and the city itself, the tortilla.If I ever had to start again, wherever I land, I’m going to do what I know how to do: make a burrito.– Nicolas, 31, Chula Vista
Catelyn North Park San Diego Magazine Love Letters
I watched my mother be awarded her naturalization at the courthouse in downtown before I even knew what that meant. I memorized the traffic-riddled daily drive from Chula Vista to Coronado, closing my eyes at times to test my accuracy. I stood for 10 hours at my first job on the Ferry Landing, pleading for a break to enjoy the bay breeze.I smiled for my prom photos at the Hotel Del, dismayed that my first love was late. I crossed the border to go clubbing with friends at 18 to get over him, certain that no harm could ever befall me. I went to my 9 a.m. classes in East Village, hoping for a single parking spot in a 10-story structure. I opened my college acceptance letter in my 1920s-built North Park apartment, crying in disbelief.Now, I cruise through the many neighborhoods, smirking at the cringe-and cry-worthy associations I have with those blocks. San Diego looks and feels different now, but the blanket of warmth and comfort remains the same. I don’t blame SD for changing—I did, too. And while the process of growing up was hard, growing up in San Diego never was.– Catelyn, 22, North Park
Nicole Ocean Beach San Diego Magazine Love Letters
This is Cedar, my lifeline. This sweet, furry friend came to me on Election Night 2020 from a nonprofit in Del Mar, one that crosses the border of Mexico to help deserving dogs find a match in the US. She was seeking a new life, hope, and love, like all of us that night. San Diego, thank you for being open, loving, and liberal, and for making connections that save lives. You saved us both that night.– Nicole A., 39, Ocean Beach
Balboa Park San Diego
Balboa Park has always been a sanctuary for my family. One hiking trail in particular holds a very special memory for me. I was 7-years-old when my sisters and I joined our father on an adventure through a secret passageway.Nestled near the 163 freeway, the trail was like stepping into a fairytale. The towering redwood trees formed a canopy above us, as if guarding a magical secret. As we followed its gentle curves, it was like having our own yellow brick road filled with wonder and mystery.Dad told us to keep our eyes on the ground, for there, hidden among the leaves, were shiny coins waiting to be discovered. To our amazement, his words proved true.As we stepped through the trees, we stumbled upon glimmering 50-cent pieces scattered on the trail.We each found a coin, and it became a ritual, a game we eagerly played, eyes scanning the ground with anticipation. It wasn’t until years later that my sisters and I discovered it wasn’t some magical force leaving those coins for us. It was our father all along. He had orchestrated those moments of childhood, ensuring the park remained a magical experience for us.– Dianna, 53, La Mesa
Morgan North Park San Diego Magazine Love Letters
I found the love of my life in San Diego. Well, that hasn’t actually happened yet. When I moved to San Diego a little over a year ago, that’s all I could think about. San Diego offers everything that I could ever want in a place to live: the beaches, the mountains, and the warm weather. Why couldn’t it offer me my person?With my 30th birthday quickly approaching, I grew impatient. I fantasized about some of the ways it could happen: one drunken night at Gossip Grill or a meet-cute at Communal Coffee or dog beach, having a 101 Dalmatians moment with our dogs.But as my first year of living here came to an end, I thought more and more about who I actually found here. I found myself in this city. I’ve gained the independence I was searching for when I moved here, I’ve been able to trust myself and listen to my intuition, and I’ve gained lifelong friends in the process.Even though I haven’t found the love of my life yet, I think I might have found someone better. And I’ll always have San Diego to thank for that.– Morgan, 30, North Park
Rock and Roll Marathon Medal San Diego Running
Three things I love arrived in 2000: marathon running, coming out, and my friend Frankie, with San Diego as the setting. While my running group, the Miami Renegades, traveled the world in 26.2-mile increments, I met Frankie in an LGBTQ+ chatroom. Both fed my soul as I wrangled introducing my whole self to the world.Frankie’s sense of humor and stories of life in San Diego hooked me, and two decades of correspondence began. Work and running killed time between emails. During a Renegades training run, we discussed our next marathon location. “Rock ’n’ Roll Marathon!” I yelled. The lure of the Pacific d the rest.San Diego spread out below us when we landed at Lindbergh, then surrounded the cab ride through Balboa Park into the Gaslamp. The Renegades were charmed by green hills, the breeze, and the fact that we didn’t have to run over the Coronado Bridge. Later, I met Frankie. A beautiful sunset rose behind him and dwarfed his smile.The race included cover band serenades and classy San Diegans spraying us with their lawn hoses. Marines welcomed us across the finish with warm beer, then we were bused to Kansas City Barbeque.I got that loving feeling for San Diego.– Bill, 60, Hillcrest
Torrey Pines Reserve Trail Hiking San Diego
Our baby was born three weeks early at Scripps Memorial Hospital in La Jolla. We live in Del Mar, and as we drove through Torrey Pines on the way to the hospital to deliver our son, we blared Andrea Bocelli because it was the most epic music we could imagine for his birth.He spent his first week of life in the NICU because his lungs weren’t fully developed, and we drove back and forth through Torrey Pines every day to see him at the hospital. Although we felt so helpless with him in the NICU, the drive reminded us how lucky we were to bring our son home to such a beautiful place. When he was released, we couldn’t wait for him to see the vast expanse of the ocean and the life that awaited him.On our drive home from the hospital, we stopped by the bluffs in Del Mar near our home. We asked a stranger to take a picture of our family, and we told him this was the first time our baby had ever seen the world. What a first look. Welcome home, Grant.– Meghan, 37, Del Mar
To my beloved Balboa Park,Our relationship began, like so many do, with pure infatuation. The first time I passed under your intricate arches and wandered your secret courtyards, I felt transported to the wonders of Andalucia’s ancient cities.I was drawn back again and again, intoxicated by your charms. I sipped sangria at my first dinner out with my now-husband under the flowering jacarandas of your Prado, pale blossoms fluttering down to alight on our shoulders like a blessing. I’ve languished in sprawling afternoons beside the megaliths of your Panama 66 sculpture garden, where the bartenders seem always to have a more bitter palate than mine—a minor irritation of the kind inevitable with any true love.I’ve watched your carousel man caress the levers of his beloved machine with a tenderness that feels almost too intimate to witness. I’ve watched my sons, wide-eyed, trying to make sense of your men and women in booths hawking their street wares and ideologies. And when the world shut down, I treasured your open-aired, tree-lined boulevard as a place we could still go. You are an entity unto yourself, Balboa, and forever a part of us.– Mariel, 37, Vista
