On a quest for belonging and the good life in a tall tale of two cities - Sonia Hadj Said

It’s other people that make me think about love while I’m minding my own business over one little pint (aka the weekly allowance) Googling “is it really possible to make money with foot pics?”

‘​Edi is quite a popular guy, and I tend to worry he’ll turn into Landon, but he keeps proving me wrong.’ Picture: Sonia Hadj Said

They come at me out of nowhere. An innocent phone call from mum that begins with “how’s your week been” and seamlessly ends with “still no guy?” every single time.

Even with all this distance, I can’t run from it. Last time my family came to visit, and I asked what they thought of Edinburgh, the response was, “We’re just worried you’re all alone over there.”

First of all, I’m not alone. My cat Sassenach is here and we have great fun, thank you very much.

Second, I do suppose people get strangely freaked out when you reach a certain age and don’t tick off all the things society expects you to. They’ll say things like “what’s keeping you here exactly?” and even if there is someone special in your life you might shrug and keep quiet because haven’t we all regretted prematurely getting excited about a new romantic interest?

Like me. I met someone, you see. I bite my tongue every time the words try to spill out my overeager mouth, but I fell hard and there’s no point pretending otherwise. His name is Edinburgh – let's call him Edi – and even though we’ve been going steady for a few years now, I first met him in 2018.

Back then I was in a really toxic relationship with this guy, London (let's call him Landon). We had just hit over five years together and I was a ghost of my former extraordinary self. Landon was the kind of guy that drew you in with a glimpse of the beautiful life you could have with him but kept it at a distance, always leaving you wondering what you were lacking.

When we met, I was a broke writer working as a waitress and he was a fancy, rich man. He said he loved my artistic side but kept confusing me with disappearance acts and late-night texts of “wyd” as if I wasn’t good enough to be fully loved.

So, I got better on every level. I got fit, did my Master’s in journalism, leaving me with a mountain of debts, started my own magazine, kept writing books. Throughout the whole thing, he kept feeding me little crumbs of potential until I found out that he was doing the same thing to numerous other women.

I was on my way home at night from a soul-destroying agency job I picked up to stay afloat. I saw him immediately, the charming smile, the beautiful hair, well cut suit, flirting with a woman that looked just right for him and realised, I’d never be enough. So, I took the little money I had and went on a trip to see a friend, where one night at a pub, we ran into Edi.

Meeting Edi was like finally being able to breathe after years of suffocating in the same tiny four walls. He was easy, if a little rugged, and a complete opposite to Landon. He didn’t care about my clothes or status, valuing connection over society standards.

He lived surrounded by nature and hated tight spaces, explaining that noise made it impossible for him to think. When I joked about joining him, he looked surprised and said, ‘Of course, there’s more than enough space. Why wouldn’t you?’

Unlike Landon who was always chasing trends, Edi knew who he was and wore it proudly. Identity and heritage were important to him, and he made me feel good about mine, too.

He reminded me a lot of this other guy I used to be with, Poland (let's call him Polan). They had a lot in common, actually – pride of where they came from, being close with their family, caring about community. The reason things with Polan didn’t work out was his need for conformity. I had been with him from a very young age and didn’t know who I was yet. He needed a conventional woman, I was anything but.

They say it takes seven times to leave an abusive relationship. But after reluctantly coming back from my trip, something changed. Everything about Landon was making me feel sick now – the intensity on which he operated, doing everything for show, feeling above everyone else.

I knew he would never grow out of feeding off busy energy of clubs and overcrowded pubs while my mind was already living next to Edi, who felt like home.

Our last dance lasted three years during which he promised to change, seeing that he was about to lose me forever. Finally, he gave me a glimpse into his world and invited me to stay with him.

Suddenly, I didn’t have to worry about money anymore, I lived in a beautiful place and became one of these women I used to watch him being surrounded by. Getting all I wanted was the lesson I needed to see that I was never that woman to begin with; nor did I want to be.

We had the most awful goodbye, having a fight on the London Underground during which I almost fell under the approaching train as we pushed and shoved each other.

Between us, I never fully believed he didn’t mean to shove me but that last push showed me how dangerous the situation had become and finally sent me into the arms of Edi without turning back.

It’s been almost five years and things are good. So good, sometimes I get a little possessive. Edi is quite a popular guy, and I tend to worry he’ll turn into Landon, but he keeps proving me wrong. He can come across as a bit cold and blunt but says it’s fine because right people won’t mind it.

Next to him, I healed in peace with all the space I needed. We simply have fun; either on weekend adventures or around numerous pubs. And every time I wake up a little too hungover for my taste, he laughs and says, “it’s called balance. You need a bit of both for a good life.”

And good life it is. So tomorrow, I’ll call my mum. She’ll ask: what’s still keeping you there?” and this time I think I’ll say: love.